I Wept For You
by DignityMyDearr
Summary: A story of an unrequited love spanning the series. As Cyrin struggles to find her place in the galaxy, she learns that nothing is what it appears to be. The people she loves may have their secrets, and she has her own as well...
1. I Was There

I was there.

I grew from working, to singing, to studying, to learning.

This was my purpose.

I gave curses to the sun, as it grew only more violent towards me, exposing me, and blinding me. But at night, I could almost catch the moon in my palms and twirl its beams between my fingers, threading its calming glow all throughout me. I became accustomed to the heat of two suns, but I praised the coming of night.

And one day I saw him.

In his face, his smile, shone all the beauty and fire of the sun, and it lacked the torment I was accustomed. In his eyes, lay the moonlight that I could not bewitch and make my own toy. I could not reach him, though he was closer than the sun or moon would ever be.

And, I marveled at his age in his youth. He was a boy with the mind of a man, and an endless fountain of love in his heart; my boy who shone with the brilliance of the sun. Mine.

Days came and went. Two men entered. From whence they came, or for what purpose, I know not. They befriended me. They befriended my boy. They brought me and my boy to a new world, but not together. Soon, we were separated. Life began when I first saw that boy, and then halted in death-like silence when he left. Years blossomed and withered before my eyes, I had been freed and moved from my suns, my prison, but still I remained passionless to all but him.

Pain besought me upon meeting him again. My boy had become a man, a man with a strong face, and curious eyes. But I could not have forgotten him, he was eerily the same. And so every sound, every whisper, ever laugh that escaped my lips I gave to him. And yet, his eyes, the bluest night cradled tenderly by heavy lashes, never so much as swept over my pale figure.

I saw his eyes fall on another, they watched her so tenderly, and I was consumed by the blackest anger. The pain that he had bestowed upon me by reaching for another was worse than that of the sun when it blinded me or the moon when its light was beyond my grasp.

I lashed out at the girl. And only then did I earn true acknowledgement from my beautiful treasure. Woe devoured me, and my veins filled with lead when I felt his eyes on me. I had replayed this moment in my head numerous times, always believing that even his slightest glance would be my greatest treasure. But now…now…did he hate me?

Of course he had changed since he was we were youths. He had become my man with the bitter stare.

I sang to my lady a song meant for him, a song from the depths of my being, for this was my purpose.

His eyes fell shut for a moment, and he was soothed.

I rejoiced at having been granted a gift that allowed to me to calm him, to bring him a moment of peace.

As I released a final melodic sigh, I knew I was nothing more than noise to him. I sang to him nonetheless, holding, forever in my heart, the knowledge that I had been able to brighten his soul as he had always done mine.

After that day, I was around him often, exposed to his beaming stares, which were not intended for me. But still, I drank them in, allowing them to fill me with hope and strength, and happiness. I saw his love for my lady, and I knew that it would never be mine. I watched as he slipped away, forever into her grasp.

And then I watched as he slipped under the power of another. I wept as I saw him destroy everything he loved. I saw the sunlight in his eyes become a hateful fire, and I broke as I realized that my boy was gone. The rest of my days were spent without him. And as time continued to pass, I watched as he suffered in the prison he had made for himself. I could do nothing, but cry for him.

Every song, every whisper, every laugh that left my lips I gave to him.

I was always there.


	2. Of Must and Cinnamon

_Thank to the two reviewers from Chapter 1. I know it was short, slightly confusing, and rather jumbled. That was the point though (: I'm still not sure exactly what my vision is for the story, I have a general outline for the plot, but some very major parts of it continue to change in my head. And a lot of it changed with this chapter as well. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy!_

**Anisgurl56: **_Thank you very much! I update as often as possible, but sometimes I get lazy and don't update as soon as I should. Sorry ): Anyway, I hope you enjoy what I managed to come up with (:_

**Lady Katana 4544: **_Are you sure you weren't obligated to say that? :D Thanks for reviewing though. Hope you enjoy this chapter (:_

* * *

My past is of little importance.

I inhabited a small slave's quarters for most of my childhood, accompanied by my mother, father, and elder brother. My father was a radiant man. Tall and lanky, with a crisp tan and a mop of dirty, messy, bark colored hair atop his hair, he resembled a young man more than a father. He was kind. There were never negative comments about our status from him, and if ever my brother or I pleaded for anything, he would sacrifice everything in order to provide it. My father was a slave, although the rest of my family was free, and we worked tirelessly to get enough money to free him. My mother headed this mission. My brother and father were two of the heartiest men on Tatooine. My mother on the other hand, was a wretch. Never can I remember a kind word escaping her. She was a beady-eyed, beak nosed, short woman whose hands have resembled claws since the day I was born. Never have I seen her looking young or youthful. Though I assume she must have at sometime. People aren't born looking like tyrants.

Tatooine, this wasteland, was my home. Mos Espa was where I grew up.

Mos Espa was where I saw him.

A brilliant, blue-eyed boy, with shaggy, sand colored hair. He was young. But so was I.

After watching him from a safe distance, I was able to piece together bits about him. He repaired things; healed the damaged, repaired the broken, and even brought life to things that were once lacking it. And he had a presence to him. Whenever he was close, I could feel him. His energy pulsated throughout me. He brought me life.

"Quit that smiling." My mother snapped. "If you could weave and knit half as well as you could day dream, I bet we'd be able to get out of this hell hole, this, disgusting haven for the damned."

Such fond words she had for the home she created.

I shuddered. He was gone again, and I couldn't feel him anymore. He came and passed, just like a cool breeze; rare, but savored by all who could pause long enough to enjoy its radiant caress.

I glanced once more at the shop where I knew he worked. I believed he was a slave, and been birthed into nothingness, as he was constantly dressed in torn tunics. And, curiously, I never saw a father. Perhaps he was dead; a hero, destined for greatness, that had fallen to a tragic end. Or maybe he left the brilliant boy and his soft spoken mother, and defied every rule and principle for some fiery, passion laced romance.

My vivid imagination wandered through the possibilities, until I was disturbed by two, tall, men in robes that towered over me like giant trees.

"Excuse me, miss," said the elder one, leading me to impale my finger, rater terribly, on my knitting. A pool of hot blood presumed to gush from the wound. I stared at it, watching the ribbons of red spread and spread, until they had completely devoured my finger.

"Are you dumb?!" My mother shrieked. "You're bleeding all over the place. We can't sell those if you've bled all over them!"

"Obi-Wan," The elder man said softly to his partner, "Tend to her while I get oriented, and ask this gentle woman for her help and generosity. Clean her up, and set her right again."

"Yes master," Murmured the younger of the two. He was a handsome boy. He was older than me, probably by 10 years or so, and gentle. Strangely enough, I could feel his presence as well. His was different than the boy's. While one had a brilliant, exhilarating feel the other was calm, cool, and collected. I felt my shoulder's drop and relax the moment his hand touched mine.

"Are you alright?" asked he, softly.

I nodded viciously to prove how "alright" I was.

"Well, let's wash that off then," He chuckled. I enjoyed his laugh. Again, it soothed me. This time, I felt the serenity reach into the very depths of me, and it engulfed me, like I had always imagined an endless ocean would.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked again. "You're awfully quiet."

"Silence is an asset," I replied softly. "Haven't you ever found peace in silence?"

He smiled at me a shining smile that was not brilliant like the sun, but still filled the world with light. If my boy was the sun, then this man was the moon. Both were beautiful. Both were necessary. Both brought me such chaste, pure feeling.

"Indeed I have found peace in silence." He raised an eyebrow at me as he took a wet cloth and began to pat away the ribbons of red on my hand. "Those are exceptionally wise words for such a young soul."

"And you judge by age, sir?" asked I, curiously. "Age is nothing. Appearances are deceiving. Experience is what creates a soul."

"Ah, again, you bewilder me with your perception." He smiled at me, as I savored his words. Never before had I been deluged with such praises. And his voice was like music. The way his words linked together to form sentences was pure poetry, perfection to my ears. I was calmed. "You do well for yourself here?"

"I suppose. We manage. My mother and I work here, and our wages go to my father's keeper. We hope to have paid his debts soon."

"Debts? His keeper? I doubt your father is some sort of animal. Why would he need a keeper?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Slavery mine as well be a custom here." I replied.

"You're a slave then?" Obi-Wan's eyes were wide with astonishment. "Someone so wise, and pretty, and talented, remains shackled by the chains of slavery?"

"No, sir," said I, as my cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I was born free, as was my brother. My father was--"

"Obi-Wan, I have felt something," The older man cut me off, and burst into the room where Obi-Wan had finished bandaging my ridiculously unimportant wound. "We can get the part we need, but we must find whatever is sending off this strong feeling."

"I sense it too master, though I believe it may be closer than you expect." Obi-Wan replied, still grasping my hand gently. I savored his warmth, and I could feel the blood pumping through the veins in his hand.

"No, I know of what you speak." The elder replied, making it more difficult for me to follow their cryptic discussion. "And it is something far greater. Can you not feel it?"

"Master, I--"

"Never mind, Obi-Wan, we must go now. Time is not to be squandered, it's much too valuable." The man looked at me, and Obi-Wan quickly released my hand. I snapped to attention the moment his finger tips left mine, and became aware of the awkwardness of the situation. "Meet me outside the shop."

The old man left gracefully, his size and age considered, and Obi-Wan sighed, as if he had been holding his breath the whole time.

"It's time for me to leave now." He stared at me with cascading, swimming blue eyes. "May we meet again…"

I hesitated, hanging on his every hushed hum of a sound, until I realized he was awaiting some sort of introduction.

"Um, ha, err, Cyrinity. Cyrinity Larbec." I stammered.

"Cyrinity," Obi-Wan repeated the name, as if swishing it around his mouth like a fine wine, so he could properly taste and appreciate every solitary syllable. "I hope we meet again." He gave a short hybrid between a bow and a nod, before exiting, leaving as quickly as he had come. Instantly, a portrait of my boy filled my mind. I wanted to tell him of this character I had met, and how Obi-Wan's presence was so contradictory of his.

But I could not. I did not know where my boy was. I could not feel him now.

Yet Obi-Wan's smell, his feel, lingered.

It was must and cinnamon.

Strength and tenderness.

Calm, cool, and collected, I remained in the back of the shop, until I could feel him no more.

* * *

_Please review (: _

_Constructive criticism welcome, as are plot ideas, and general feedback. _

_Thanks for reading!_


	3. Puzzle Pieces

It's hard to love someone if you don't know their name.

Loving, and _loving_, are two very different things. I love my boy; the complexity of my emotions tells me so. The way I can feel him, and imagine the way his voice sounds or dream of the sensation of his touch, all are proof that I indeed love him, and fiercely at that. That is loving.

_Loving_, however, is different than that. In order to truly _love _someone they must be equally aware of your existence. They must be able to recognize you, call your name, and at least feel something for you as well. And while I may love my boy, I can't possibly _love_ him. That is a new adventure, a new sort of task I have yet to achieve.

But today is the day I have decided to tackle that task.

I am going home early, thus, I have time to go by his shop and "accidentally" bump in to him. I will then proceed to "accidentally" give my name, and "accidentally" learn his in exchange. Perhaps we will "accidentally" become friends as well.

I trotted down the streets of Mos Espa, covering my face with a scrap of one of my father's old tunics. In the morning, the dust has mostly settled, the air is clean, and you can see clearly. As the day progresses, however, people man handle each other trying to get from one place to another, and quickly the dust is kicked into the air by carts, feet, and other strange creatures. It is now mid day, and the grime of the streets is flurried around in the air. The trouble with dust is not that it seeps into every crevice in my clothes and body, or that it irritates my unnaturally sensitive skin. Nor is the problem that the moment I collide with moisture I know I will turn into a stump of mud. Those are all bothersome, but the true problem is that you can not see. In the bustling, loud, abhorrent streets of Mos Espa, you can hardly see. And usually, I am quick on my feet, avoiding obstacle after obstacle and using my size to my advantage.

I could say that the dust was of particular hindrance today.

Or I could even say that I dodged the man, but he stepped in my way again.

But, looking back, I now know it was not by chance or pure human fault that I ran into him. It was some trick of Fate that brought me to where I am now; rump in the dirt, hands scraped against the ground, coughing and blinking endlessly to orient myself with my surroundings.

"Must you get hurt every time we meet?" A familiarly soothing voice asked. I blinked, and looked up to from where the voice had been issued, but through the dust I could not see. But I recognized the brown robes, which resembled the trunk of a sturdy tree.

"Here, let me help you up." This voice was unfamiliar but, strangely, felt like home. It sounded like safety. And then I felt it. The moment I reached for the small hand out stretched in front of me, I felt it. A current radiated from the hand, and when we touched, it was a pinwheel of explosions. Everything blossomed before my eyes, and as I was pulled up by the hand, I found myself face to face with him.

_My boy._

I looked to his left and to his right. Obi-Wan and his peculiar friend stared at me with remarkable curiosity. Quickly, however, they lost my attention. I realized I was still grasping my boy's hand, and quickly I let go of it, dropping it as gently as I could, so as not to damage him.

I admired him, for the first time, up close. He looked up at me with a squinty, sort of half grin that made his eyes shine unnaturally. His face was dirty, as I expected mine was as well, and there were paths left by his fingers from where he had obviously tried to wipe the dirt away. Beads of shining sweat sparkled above his brow and on his rosy, but dirtied cheeks.

I smiled as well.

"Cyrinity, your hands are bleeding." Obi-Wan pointed out, his voice interjecting into my private thoughts. I worried for a moment that he could hear them, the way his words had been heard not only by my ears, but also by something within me, startled me and lead me to believe that he could hear everything I was thinking as well. I could feel my heart pounding blood loudly in my ears, which flushed with embarrassment. Quickly, though, I regained my composure. No one could possibly read minds, let alone talk to them. It was ridiculous magic, and I was a ridiculous child to have believed for even a second that it something like that was even possible. It wasn't.

"It's just a scrape." Said my boy. "But it will stop burning if you put some water on it."

His voice was different that I had imagined, more childish and young than I had expected. It was jolly though, and light hearted.

"I'm Anakin." My boy said.

I rejoiced at the sound of his name. Anakin.

Anakin! The boy who shined more brilliantly than the sun! Anakin! The boy who brought me to life simply through his nature! Anakin! He was my boy and my healer that stood before me, wanting nothing more than to make me alright. He was so simply himself. He was so simply unique. He was a work of some Being's hands, and he was some sort of perfection.

"Anakin." Dreamily, I repeated the name aloud. Obi-Wan raised a skeptic eyebrow at me.

"Cyrinity, where is your mother?" The elder man asked. "My name is Qui-Gon Jinn, and I have a proposition for her. Will you take me to her?"

"She may still be at the shop," Said I, still aware of Obi-Wan's eyes burning into my skin but, still, completely diverged on Anakin. "I can take you back there."

"But what about your hands?" Anakin asked, as if putting his caring heart, that I had always seen, on his sleeve.

"My hands are fine." I smiled shyly. "Just a scrape, that's all. Thank you."

I tried to convey every emotion with my eyes, though I never imagined myself being one for non verbal communication. How was one expected to convey every desire, and every depth of their soul with two eyes of predetermined shape, color, and size? How could I possibly show love, if I had my mother's envious green eyes, and dark, brooding black lashes. Somehow, my eyes felt more sinister to me than they should. I should have blue eyes, pale, and gentle, but not deserving of any attention. Simply there, studying, learning, and loving. Or now…_loving_.

I turned quickly to lead them all back to the shop before a sickening weight collided with the side of my skull. I felt the foundations of my being quiver, before giving out. Before I had even hit the ground, I blinked exactly four times; each time my eye lids opening less and less, until the fifth time, they did not open at all.

* * *

I was scared.

Sounds poured and blurred themselves together as they invaded my dreams--deep, even, and mild like a heart beat. They reverberated in pleasant undertones, and I groggily struggled to give them my focus.

Instead of seeming around me, I felt the sounds inside me. But I was swimming around, in some sort of emptiness. I couldn't find anyone around me. My father, my brother, my mother, Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Qui-Gon were all no where to be found. In this black desert, I was alone. I could not see myself, I felt as if I was actually there. I was seeing through my own sinister green eyes, but I was seeing nothing.

Fear clenched my throat with its icy talons, and I choked for air.

As the realization that I couldn't breathe hit me, my throat closed. I struggled to breathe, but oxygen evaded me, getting lost somewhere between my throat and my lungs. Panic filled me and all of my muscles tensed into wooden boards, despite my attempts to stay calm.

Shreds of sound floated to my ears. Troubled voices. Someone's hand on my forehead. Then scalding, salty, bubbly liquid filling my throat. Quickly, my eyes opened and I shot straight up where I lay. After a moment of sitting up, I became aware of the weight of my own body, and I fell back down again. Heavily.

Then I was nothing again.

There seemed to nothing left of me, but the dull, hazy thoughts. I felt neither pain nor cold after my heavy landing. My body, if it still existed, seemed to be too light now.

Did I die?

The sounds ceased, and an involuntary shiver traveled quickly down my spine, until it had reached the tips of my feet. I was glad now, to at least know that I did have a body left for a shiver to travel through. And this happened to be resting on something soft and warm. Slowly, I ventured to open my eyes, then immediately closed them, as a stream of cutting rays burnt me terribly. I remember how I began to look at the sun so fondly, yet now it attacked me with sickening heat, which at once sealed my eyes shut.

But it appeared impossible to go on lying like this, floating in some surreal space as I hid behind a veil of feigned sleep.

I ventured to take another look at the world that surrounded me.

"She's awake now Mister Obi-Wan!" said Anakin's unmistakably effervescent voice. It filled my ears, and the corners of my lips weakly twitched a smile. My eyes felt heavy, like a ton of lead had been thoughtlessly dropped on my already hefty lids, and I closed them again.

I felt a cool hand on my forehead.

"The spot where she was hit is still bruised horribly." Said Obi-Wan. "Cyrinity, can you hear us?"

"Y-y-s." My voice was rough and jagged from lack of use, and I struggled to make any sort of sound at all.

"Yes?" Anakin asked.

"Well, she did say something. I believe it was at least an acknowledgement of our presence." A girl's voice said. I could hear the laughter in it her voice, but it was not cruel laughter. Instead it seemed to emanate joy.

"Hullo, Padmè!" Anakin said, his voice slightly more distant than it was before.

"Hmm, you're frowning." Obi-Wan remarked, oh so . "Is something wrong?"

"No, not at all." I murmured weakly.

"You took a pretty hard hit to the head. A man was walking with two pieces of thick scrap metal slung over his shoulder, and he spun around the other direction just as you turned around. He just knocked you out cold and kept walking." Obi-Wan said, his voice hinted at irritation. "People here are so caught up in there own lives that they have no respect for others'."

"I'm okay. He's okay. No damage was done." Said I, in hopes if of calming his irritation.

"I dunno about that." Anakin said. "You got a pretty massive bruise on your head. It barely pokes through your hairline."

My eyes were able to focus now at the girl by his side, Padmè. She was remarkably pretty, with dark hair and plain, but even, ivory colored skin. Though she was still slightly taller than him, the two of them appeared at each other's side so naturally. A twinge of sadness nipped at my gut. His voice was close, right by my face, before she spoke. Then, suddenly, he was by her side.

And they fit.

Like two puzzle pieces, sculpted from the same clay, they fit. Looking at them both, I could never imagine them with another. But I still felt Anakin belonged with me. She could never look at him the way I do, and she could never feel the way I do. I have heard women ramble about love tirelessly and torrentially, yet none of them had ever described being able to sense someone, before you can even see 

them. And I found it hard to believe that some girl, some pretty but unfamiliar girl, could ever love Anakin the way I could.

She couldn't. And she never would.


	4. A Friend

**Hey, thanks for the reviews. My birthday just passed, and so I was busy with family and what not. This chapter also didn't want to be written, so it was more difficult. I'm not sure I'm completely happy with it, but I owe you readers a new update. Enjoy and please review. I'd love to hear what you think, since I know from all the hits that you ARE reading.**

**Can't fool me (:**

* * *

"They say the only salvation from a broken heart is a true friend." A voice said, coming up behind me. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," said I, rather bluntly. "But I really don't know what you're talking about, Obi-Wan."

He sat down next to me, offering me a glass of some liquid. I carefully set it on the small, dark table next to me.

"Well, maybe you don't want to talk, but never lie." Obi-Wan smiled as he chastised me, and I was slightly confused by his tactics. Was this his idea of a guilt-trip? Or was this some sort of tactic to show me that he was my friend, but also a mentor? Either way, somehow, I appreciated the smile. "You're really not a good liar."

I sat there silently, concentrating as hard as possible at the foggy liquid swimming around in the mug I now held in my hands. Anakin was somewhere with Padmè, and I was here alone. Without him. This did not mean he shined any less than before. On the contrary, he seemed to shine brighter. But he was further away, for the first time he was completely out of my reach. It was as if he had gone. I felt my cheeks turn hot. What was it about this ivory skinned girl that made his heart sway like a flame in a breeze? Was she really so different than I? Was she so much my superior that, upon comparison, I dwindled weekly in the distance as she shone brightly at the forefront of his mind?

"You're angry?" Obi-Wan stated, rather than asked.

I simply nodded.

"Do you remember, before you hit your head, what Qui-Gon said?" He asked.

Another nod.

"Well, he continued to your mother, with the proposition he had. At first, she refused to agree. But after explaining, and coaxing, my master was able to convince her that it was what is best." Obi-Wan explained.

"What is 'it', exactly?"

"Queen Amidala has offered you a place in her court. Upon conveying your story to her, I realized that she was quite touched by your determination, and your strength. She sees something in you, and she 

has paid your family compensation in order to allow you to come with us." Obi-Wan grinned. "You can leave Tatooine."

"And what if abandoning my family, and my father, was _not_ something I was interested in?" I asked. "I will not be bought and sold like a slave." My voice grew sharper and sharper with each word, but I did not shout, and I did not scream. However, I felt my temper rising. I, the daughter of a slave who has been working her entire life to try and free her father, have been sold _exactly_ as her father had been in order for his freedom. Although this was a victory for her mother, her father and brother would be greatly displeased.

"Please, Cyrinity, try to understand." Obi-Wan replied, still calm as ever. "The Queen has called you to her court, as one of her ladies in waiting. Refusal is not an option."

"Think of what you are asking of me," I stated. "You are asking me to abandon my family, leave the world I know, in order to serve this girl who has--" I stopped. This girl who has what? Brought a menace to my world and lead her directly to stealing the only joy I have ever known? I could feel Obi-Wan preparing to ask the words…

"Who has what?" Obi-Wan asked skeptically. "Please, try to look at this from an adult perspective. She is offering you an opportunity to do more with your life; to make something of yourself instead of sitting in this dust hole. This will change your life."

"I am 15 years old." I said. "I have known nothing but this life. How can you expect me to leave my parents and my brother just because she said so?"

"Cyrinity, you have had many years with your family. They have taught you everything they can. The Queen is a good person; she will be like family to you, if you give her the chance." Obi-Wan said gently. "This is not a request. Your father has already been freed, and all your other debts paid. From now on, you will live with Padmè and the rest of the handmaidens, and you will respect and serve your new queen. It may seem like a difficult life now, and no one expects you to immediately adapt. But try to be thankful for what you have been given."

I felt hot tears rising to my eyes, whether it was because I was angry, sad, or scared I could not tell. I believed it to be a combination of all three.

"May I see my father and brother one last time?" I asked. Obi-Wan opened his mouth to speak, before the ship started to rumble and buzz, as we felt it lift off the ground.

"We can't leave!" I told him. "I need to see my father before I leave. This could be the last time I ever see him."

"No, it's not." Obi-Wan said. "Please, I must go. We were not expected to leave now. I must speak with my master."

I opened my mouth to protest, but did not. A mix of cowardice and self control kept me firmly in my cot, sitting up, saying nothing. Obi-Wan looked at me as he left, but what he was trying to convey, I could not read. His eyes, while calming and steady, were difficult and stubborn. They had depth to them, but what unspoken words they were trying to communicate was different to read. I felt, though, that it must have been astonishment. I could justify his astonishment; I had acted like a child moments ago, jealous, rude, and selfish. But now, as my final chance to be reunited with my family was slipping away so quickly, I was silent.

When I was sure he was gone, I let the tears fall. I did not sob or weep, but I let the tears fall. My breathing grew heavier and became labored, until the tears stopped, and I soon fell asleep.

* * *

When I awoke, I was alone. A bundle of red robes, dresses, and head covers sat at the end of my cot. There was no note, and there was no word as to who left them or what I was supposed to do with them. Using what common sense grace has given me, however, I assumed they were meant for me. I undressed from my tunics, and had just picked up the red dress when the door to the handmaidens' quarters opened.

"Oh good, you're awake!" Padmè came in, despite the fact I was almost completely naked. "Oh, don't make that face! We're all women, we're all composed of the same elements, essentially, and we're like sisters now."

I said nothing.

"I can't imagine how you must be feeling," The porcelain colored pretty continued. "Having to leave your family and come away with us. I know it must be difficult. But I'm sure you'll enjoy life in the service of the Queen. She's a good woman; beautiful, fair, and kind hearted; even playful when you get to know her. We can be like your family now, if you'll give us a chance."

Still, I was silent. I never particularly was one for words. And I had none to spare for her. What do you say to the person that stole _everything_ from you in a matter of minutes? Do I thank her? Do I praise her? Do I investigate as to what her relationship with Anakin is?

"Anakin…" I started, softly. "Did he come as well?"

Her cheeks flushed and her eyes beamed as she said,

"Yes, yes he did. They're taking him to the Jedi temple, to see if he will be trained. Qui-Gon believes he is some sort of savior, I guess. Did you know that he had no father? His mother woke up, and he was simply there, in her stomach, growing."

This explained one of Anakin's mysteries to me. I was glad that he was coming. Perhaps I could yet earn his heart, and gain his affections. I felt a wave of relief come over me.

"Are you going to stand there?" Padmè asked vivaciously. "You really should get dressed. We're expected to land soon, and then the Queen will need you."

"Padmè?" I asked, as I slipped the dress over my head. "Why did the Queen ask for me? I did not know her. The most she could have seen of me was while I was unconscious."

"Like I said," Padmè began, singing her Queen's praises like a nightingale, "She is a good person. And she has insight. When Obi-Wan told her your story, she must have seen something in you that she admired."

"Obi-Wan said as much." I sighed. I struggled to adjust my head cover and veil

"Oh! Here, let me help you!" Padmè approached me, and at first I made to move away from her. Of all people, I did not need her help. I don't know why I didn't move, but in my instant of hesitation, Padmè clutched a bit of my veil in her hand, and became nimbly wrapping it around my head, then my face.

"The Queen has requested that your presence be kept unknown, for now." Padmè explained, as she covered all of my face but my eyes. "So we have been told to cover our faces, only today though. First landings on Coruscant are always very dramatic. A new handmaiden would draw too much attention away from the Queen's plea."

"Plea?" I asked, feeling my hot words as they lingered behind the veil that shrouded my face.

"Our people have undergone very dramatic events recently." Padmè said, as she wrapped a similar piece or a fiery colored fabric across her face. "There has been a blockade, and our, _your_ people now also, will fail unless this blockade is lifted."

I silently absorbed this information. I had never been exposed to politics before, and suddenly I had been introduced to a new view. There was life beyond Tatooine, and there were things happening. _Big_ things. My thoughts swam until Padmè interrupted me.

"Come," She said. "I can feel the ship…we're landing now."

She smiled broadly, and for a moment, I could understand Anakin's infatuation with her. But it was just an infatuation. I had yet to catch a glimpse of this girl that had such a firm grasp upon his heart. I felt she must be malicious. Why else would she steal him away from me? I know we had never met before, and I also know that he did not love me. But before there was chance; there was a slight possibility that we could have fallen in love. I could have been happy.

I continued to observe her as she seemed to flutter out of the room. She was full of life and energy, and had made many attempts to make me feel welcome (which I'm sure she had thought to be effective). Perhaps she had done the same to Anakin, and perhaps this was what had attracted him so. But could he not see beyond her façade?

Suddenly, she stopped in front of me.

"What did you say your name was? I'm absolutely terrible with names." Padmè asked as worry etched across her face. Was she scared to offend me? To hurt me? The irony of our predicament was almost unbearable. Didn't she understand that she had already hurt me more than I thought possible?

"Cyrinity Larbec."

"Can I call you Cyrin? Cyrinity seems so childish. You're a woman of the Queen now." Padmè smiled her breath taking smile, and I tried not to grimace. What did my face look like when I smiled? Did I glow? Or did I seem lifeless and dull?

I nodded.

"Anxious?" She asked.

"Yes."

"Don't be. Once we get past the politicians, you'll start feeling right at home. And trust me, everyone is uneasy around the politicians."

I thought of Anakin. I knew he would not be uneasy. They would all like him; his energy, his wit, his kindness.

I stumbled slightly as the ship hit ground, but continued to follow Padmè who seemed to have not noticed the landing. Soon, we were surrounded by guards and other handmaidens, and I saw the Queen's back. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon stood at the head of our group, next to a strange creature with wing-like ears. Obi-Wan glanced back at me and I tensed. Why was he looking at me? My face was covered; did he know who I was despite of my disguise?

"Just stay close to me." Padmè said. "I'll let you know what to do."

I nodded, but felt hot anger swell with in me. I was not her project. I did not need her to help me through every little obstacle. As she said, I was a woman of the Queen now, and even if I didn't know everything about my home I would learn it quickly.

The ramp lowered, and I caught my first glimpse of my new, but temporary, home.

Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon exited the ship, followed by the rest of us. It was hard to find Anakin, as he was so vastly lacking in height compared to most of us, but I could feel him. His bubbly, spirited message was countered by Obi-Wan's calm. My mind spun as I suddenly became aware of everyone else's…feelings. I tried to pinpoint Anakin's, but I could not. I could feel anger, sadness, loneliness, anxiety, determination, and fire.

As everyone filed into messy lines, Padmè and I, along with three other handmaidens stopped behind the Queen, who was face to face with the assumed politicians. I saw Anakin, and I felt Padmè move slightly. He beamed at her, but tenderly. My stomach turned.

I heard words exchanged between a gingered haired man and the Queen, and soon we were walking at a fast pace. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon stayed behind, and I turned to look as they spoke to another, taller, white haired man. Obi-Wan gave me a slight wave of his hand and I turned to continue walking.

We were led to a meeting room, were the Queen and Ginger-Hair began to talk about the situation Padmè had begun to explain earlier.

"The Republic is not what it once was. The Senate is full of greedy, squabbling delegates who are only looking out for themselves and their home systems. There is no interest in the common good...no civility, only politics...it's disgusting. I must be frank, Your Majesty, there is little chance the Senate will act on the invasion." Ginger-Hair said. Something about him seemed very…odd.

"Chancellor Valorum seems to think there is hope." The Queen said. It was the first time I had heard her speak, and her voice was astounding. It was firm, yet gentle, almost demanding respect from those who were listening. Her voice, and just her very presence, demanded results.

Ginger-Hair shifted uncomfortably, and I continued to observe him.

"If I may say so, Your Majesty," He replied. "The Chancellor has little real power. He is mired down by baseless accusations of corruption. A manufactured scandal surrounds him. The bureaucrats are in charge now."

The Queen stiffened for a moment and paused before finally saying,

"What options do we have?"

"Our best choice would be to push for the election of a stronger Supreme Chancellor. One who will take control of the bureaucrats, enforces the laws, and gives us justice." Ginger Hair said.

"No doubt the best option would be him," Padmè whispered, so quietly I almost couldn't hear her. "Senator Palpatine has been wanting Valorum's job for as long as I can remember."

I said nothing. Her words explained why he seemed so one sided. He was trying to manipulate the Queen, or that was how I saw it.

"He has been one of our strongest supporters." Amidala replied suspiciously. I had hoped she realized Palpatine's plot. To me, it seemed so blatant and obvious. "Is there any other way?"

"Our only other choice would be to submit a plea to the courts…" said Palpatine. His tone was condescending and I could see the Queen quaking under the pressure of his demands.

"There's no time for that!" She exclaimed in exasperation. "The courts take even longer to decide things than the Senate. Our people are _dying_, Senator, more and more each day. We must do something quickly to stop the Federation."

"To be realistic, Your Highness, I'd say we're going to have to accept Federation control for the time being."

The Queen seemed to glare, but I knew it was my imagination that drew the poison into her furrowed brow.

"That is something I can not do."

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**Don't forget to review. Next update won't be for awhile, unless I manage to put something together tomorrow evening. But don't count on it. Procrastination is a virtue and a talent!...One I have almost mastered. (:**

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	5. A New Home

**I know, it's been AGES since I updated. Oh, if only you knew the year I've had ahah. Anyway, I'm hoping to be writing more, but don't be surprised if this is just my "summer job." My goal is to get at least this story finished. Pleeeaaasssseee review. I would love some constructive criticism!!**

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When jetted to a foreign world, full of unfamiliar faces and gadgets, one hardly expects the royal treatment. Yet, even as a handmaiden, I couldn't help but feel as if the room I now stood in was nothing short of the Queen's quarters. The arrangement was obvious, but still genius. Our quarters, the handmaidens' quarters, were just across the short hall from Queen Amidala's. The Queen shared her room with Dormè, her chief hand maiden and friend. While the Queen resided in her private chambers, searching for solace between stressful senate pleas, we were mostly free to roam as we wished. I soon realized what a freedom this was, mostly from observation of the rest of the girls.

"We are expected to lead a life of near celibacy," Padmè explained. Despite my unwavering envy of her, Padmè had proved herself reliable enough, thus far. Rarely did she spare me a moment alone, fearing that it would lead to thoughts of home or emptiness. And, reluctantly, I admit that she has been successful. Although I often find myself wandering the streets of Mos Espa again in my mind, those times are few and far between as there is rarely time for one to focus on themselves. Quickly I realized that I am not just a doll-dressing-pocket-make-up-artist, but I am in fact, a body guard of sorts. "While we are here, Obi-Wan and a few other padawans have volunteered to train, not only you, but the rest of us in the art of self defense and detection. You'll have some catching up to do though, Cyrin, we've all had years of practice."

My temper flared and I resisted the urge to eliminate the competition for Anakin's love in that exact moment. The only thought that restrained my hand was the hate I knew would be directed towards me had Anakin discovered I was the slayer of his darling love, Padmè. So I stood there and nodded, instead, pretending to make mental notes of everything she said. I couldn't help but wonder if she ever ran out of oxygen while talking so much.

"Oh, I don't think she'll be any trouble," A cool voice said, as a group of three young men entered the hand maiden's quarters. "This one's got quite the temper, and the determination."

Obi-Wan's twinkling eyes and convivial smile met my astonished face and I spun around to meet him.

"Don't you boys ever knock?!" Eirtaè exclaimed from the sleeping chambers she shared with Rabè, as she quickly made herself presentable to the company now standing in the living space of our small apartment.

"A true handmaiden is always prepared for company," Rabè said calmly, true to her nature. Padmè explained to me that each handmaiden has their own talent, besides the obvious ones we all shared, which allowed us to fawn over the Queen on a daily basis. Rabè's was her patience. She directed all of us as we decorated the Queen in her elaborate garments and head dresses, and when the Queen was dismayed, nothing soothed her as well as Rabè's logic and motherly tenderness. In exchange for her gentleness, however, Rabè was also known to have quite a temper. She has had the most extensive training as a body guard, besides Padmè, and when it is required of her, she can have quite the mean streak. Eirtaè, on the other hand, has had less experience in self defense than I have. She bears little resemblance to the Queen when shrouded in her crimson robes, and the two would never be paired together on the street, considering Eirtaè's shiny blond hair and ocean blue eyes. She and I have often been criticized for this lack of similarity to the woman we were bound to protect, but she bared the majority of this criticism due to her upbringing and her wealthy family on Naboo. I, being the charity project of sorts, was often met with phrases such as "You poor child," and "I can't even imagine...", while she was rarely faced with any sort of acknowledgment at all. Yet, she showed no resentment for her status and when her advice and help with etiquette with manners were needed, she was more than happy to serve. Although I had yet to learn exactly what Padmè's talent was, it was clear that she and the Queen were not only friends on a professional level, but also on a much deeper personal level than the rest of us. Often times, I could see they were communicating through some extensive code, during even the most public of events. Perhaps she had been elected purely as a friend to the Queen. Regardless, however, she was said to have had the most extensive training as a body guard and sometimes even served as a decoy for the Queen.

"May I interest you, kind Jedi, in something to drink or eat?" Rabè asked, her voice was creamy and soft, like a lullaby you hummed to yourself in moments of silence.

"In fact, I would quite enjoy---" A boy, only slighter shorter than Obi-Wan began his sentence, excitedly, but stopped as Obi-Wan stopped him.

"Prior to introductions, milady?" Obi-Wan asked with a skeptic eyebrow raised questioningly, "I thought you were the expert on etiquette."

"Well excuse me, gentlemen," Rabè giggled, almost flirtatiously, I had guessed. "I forget we are not all acquainted here. In case you starving boys haven't noticed, we've added a new handmaiden to our sisterhood."

"Noted," Stated the other, more serious, young man to Obi-Wan's right. "You have added one, yet lost two others?"

A painful stagnant silence seemed to hush over the room, and I was swarmed with feelings of guilt and sadness. Whether I had imagined these or not was beyond me, but they were staggeringly powerful. I grabbed onto a nearby arm chair for support.

"Yanè and Sachè felt they needed to stay on Naboo." Padmè began slowly. "And, as I'm sure you've studied the crisis surrounding our home, you must realize that the circumstances called for a small evacuation. Those who chose to stay behind could not be reasoned with. There was no time."

The silence lingered. I looked at the two boys, the one who had so sternly brought our numbers to attention looked almost ashamed and, was it possible?, heart broken.

"You will tell me when you hear from Yan--err--them?" He asked, his dark eyes found Padmè's as he faced her timidly.

"We are all troubled by the situation, Xaair, you need not hide your worry for a beloved friend." Padmè replied tenderly.

Xaair, the dark eyed, black haired boy looked at Obi-Wan, conveying some sort of hidden message, before changing his demeanor from worried to jovial.

"So who are you?" He turned his body towards me, finally in genuine acknowledgment of my existence. I, due to my undeniable talent with people, seem to lack the words even to introduce myself. Thankfully, Eirtaè came bounding into the living quarters, which still seemed to divided the Jedi and handmaidens into opposite halves of the room, and spoke for me. Relief flooded over me as she babbled my introduction.

"This is Cyrin Larbec. She's from Tatooine..." Eirtaè continued on to tell the story of their crash landing on my home planet and the search for spare parts, which ultimately led them to me, a desperate street girl in need of a proper home and help. I felt the need to interject and explain that I had had a perfectly suitable home on Tatooine and I was certainly not in need of help. But Obi-Wan caught my eye, the instant before I had prepared to open my mouth and release my tirade, and I suddenly didn't feel the need to say a word. He grinned at me, and I thought of Anakin.

How long had it been since I had seen him? Days, I was sure. A week, even. I knew Padmè often would sneak out when she thought I was asleep to try and meet him, yet I did not know how this was possible if he was truly to begin his training. Still, his smile was still a beacon in my mind, catching my thoughts whenever I was spared a moment to remember the warm feel that spread throughout me, as if I had just stepped into the sun for the first time, whenever I saw his bright smile. Even just the thought of his smile was enough to brighten my day substantially. He was my own Tatooine sun.

"So you knew Anakin before he arrived on Coruscant?" Xaair asked. "What was he like?"

Obi-Wan looked at me expectantly, almost as if he too had been asking himself this question since the day we met.

"Well, I didn't really, er, know him." I replied. "Of course we had come into contact a few times, but never more than a friendly passing on the street.... That being said, he always seemed to be one of the happiest people I'd ever known. His joy was almost infectious, you could see that based on the people he came into contact with."

"You seem to think very highly of him," Xaair replied. "I, however, happen to think he may just be one of Qui-Gon's hopeful saviors. Nothing more than a product of wishful thinking."

I tried my best not to glare at him.

"I'm very new to this place, and the politics of it, but I find great interest in the Jedi Order. Jealousy is a trait neither admirable nor acceptable in a Jedi, am I correct?" I asked.

Xaair glanced at Obi-Wan, then looked back at me, challengingly.

"A Jedi can not be expected to never experience those emotions which grant us our humanity," He replied. "However, we are expected to control them."

Padmè looked at me worryingly, and I felt almost apologetic for having challenged a friend of the Queen and other handmaidens. Still, I could not be expected to lay dormant as someone attacked Anakin behind his back. I was appalled that Padmè, his dearest lover, had not come to aid as well. Certainly he would have done the same for her. Yet, she stood silent, staring at me as if it were my fault that this incident now teetered between a friendly exchange and a violent disagreement.

"So how about that food?" Obi-Wan asked, suddenly grinning again. I faced him quickly from across the room, his eyes sparkling a warning at me, as he finally broke the invisible barrier that had divided the padawans and the servants. "I think after a small meal, we should be able to train without worrying about the growls of our stomachs."

The tension in the air broke and relief flooded the room. While everyone else feasted on the small appetizers Eirtaè and I had spent the morning preparing, I needed fresh air. I pulled a thin, dark colored cloak over the simple pastel colored gown I was wearing and stepped onto the small balcony we all shared. The hip high stone wall was topped with a black iron banister that provided the perfect stabilizer for me to peer over the ledge and watch the speeders and other vehicles roar through the busy air space of this city. It almost made me miss Mos Espa. Despite the fact that it was known has a haven for the scum of the universe, at least we had solid ground to travel upon.

"Thinking of home?" Obi-Wan asked, as he suddenly appeared behind me. Surprised, I jumped slightly, losing my balance and almost tipping over the railing.

"You nearly killed me, Obi-Wan!" I exclaimed, breathing heavily due to the adrenaline. "You Jedi really are to quiet for your own good."

"I'm terribly sorry, milady," Obi-Wan replied chuckling slightly, looking almost proud that he had flustered me so. "Had you not been so absorbed with your thoughts, perhaps you would have heard me join you."

I watched him silently as he stepped from the door frame and leaned against the railing besides me.

"It's quite a view, isn't it?" He asked as he watched the loud, vibrant hustle below him. "Not at all the like the sandy streets you're used to, I'm sure. Do you miss it?"

"What is there to miss?" I asked softly. "Slavery? Violence? Families with their fingers in everything?"

"Perhaps not the people," Obi-Wan replied, looking at me with those soft, blue eyes. I couldn't help but smile at him as the delicious smell of sweet, soft, cinnamon and, what I believed to be sandalwood, intoxicated my senses. It sang songs to me and clouded my mind with thoughts of a home I had never known. Tenderness. "Perhaps what you miss most is just being able to look up and see the crystal blue sky, without worrying about a hovercraft blocking the view."

"Stay out of my head, Jedi." I replied lightly. "A lady of the Queen prefers to keep her thoughts to herself."

"And what about a friend?" Obi-Wan asked with his now familiar raised eye brow. "Must she keep her all her thoughts a secret as well?"

"Maybe not," I bit the corner of my lip, a slightly vulnerable signal that I can't recall having ever used before. Was he toying with me, playing one of his Jedi mind tricks? This was not in my nature. "But even a friend prefers to choose what information they share, and when they share it."

"Point made." Obi-Wan replied, facing me straight on now, but without entering the boundaries of my personal space. "Have you considered a position with the Senate? Your logic is undeniable!"

"Obi-Wan, rest assured that I, of all people, know how to appreciate sarcasm. But I, a new handmaiden to the Queen, would never in my most fearful nightmares imagine a spot in the Senate. You could never convince me of such a terrible thing!" I laughed. He laughed to, a warm, comfortable I had missed hearing. I was instantly transported to the first time I had heard the moon's chuckle that day on Tatooine; That day when I had first met Obi-Wan. That day that had led me to Anakin.

Oh, Anakin. My head swam with memories of him.

"You have that look of preoccupation again," said Obi-Wan. "Yet I know better than to pry."

I smiled.

"Have you seen Anakin?" I asked.

His brow furrowed with worry, and the lines seemed familiar, despite the youth of his skin.

"The Council does not want to train him," Obi-Wan said after what felt like an eternity of silence. "He's much older than most Padawans, and seems to have a particularly deep sense of emotion. He often falls prey to his feelings." Worryingly, his eyes found mine, and they spoke a sadness that he wouldn't have otherwise conveyed. "He can't control himself."

"And a lack of self control is not something the Council can choose to ignore." I stated almost coldly. How could they tear this boy away from his home and his mother and the life he had known and loved, only to send him back because he acted exactly as a child should?! "The injustice of it all is enough to make me sick."

"You must understand that the Council feels they are acting in his favor. Should they decide to train him, and he fall to the Dark Side, it would be much more painful than having these hopes crushed. He is young, he has much to live for still. Being a Jedi is not all he has going for him."

"Obi-Wan, you can't take someone away from their home and their life, give them everything they've ever wanted, and then snatch it back up purely because a bunch of selfish Masters, who think they own the galaxy, say so. You can't do that to a person. Can't you see how devastating that is?!" I snapped. Suddenly, his demeanor changed.

"Cyrin, you don't understand the way things work here." He replied sternly, standing slightly taller, eliminating the friendly half slouch I had become accustomed to. "We can not risk having someone with so much potential for power fighting against us. It would end badly for the entire Order."

"So who cares how many people's lives you have to ruin, so long as its _for the good of the Order_, right?" I asked, slightly gentler than before. "Your view is not completely unreasonable. But it_ is_ completely heartless. Actions such as these are what spawns hate in the first place."

I walked inside to see Xaair and the other padawan, eating and chatting happily with Eirtaè, Padmè and Rabè. I felt a twinge of jealousy as well. These girls were different than I. They were refined and beautiful and talented and desirable. Their words painted portraits and spun garmets, silky and soft, while my voice fell flat and harsh. My accent was neither rounded nor gentle; It was hardly an accent at all. I doubted I would ever be accepted into this world. If I could not learn to love it, it would never learn to love me.


	6. No Balm for a Broken Heart

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The day I finally saw the sun again, was a day I had not expected. Multiple weeks it has been, since I had last seen Anakin and, though my heart ached at the loss of my joy, a hopefulness burned there, nonetheless. I had always known that one day I would see him again, though one can never predict the exact day and circumstances under which such a meeting will take place. Although that's not to say that I hadn't played out different scenarios in my head multiple times, hoping that the moment Anakin and I would meet again, he would feel and see in me everything I had everything I had ever experienced for him. What fifteen year old girl doesn't harbor such affections for the boy she cared for? Judging by my talks with Eirtaè, who had quickly become my closest friend, the other handmaidens had yet to feel any profound romance, as they had dedicated themselves so entirely to their work, the Queen. For this reason, and for the fact I was well aware of Padmè's budding relationship with Anakin, I kept my affections, and the object of them, to myself. It did not take long for me to discover that everyone on Coruscant had their secrets. Anakin was mine.

I had just finished hanging up one of the Queen's gowns when one of the guards' commlinks demanded if a boy should be allowed into see Padmè. My heart beat hopefully, like a drum in my chest, as I told him to please send the boy in. Although I did not know where Padmè was, there was no way I could have denied such a chance. The boy walked in, slowly, and carefully, yet completely at ease with himself, and I instantly lost any sense of who I was, or where I was standing. Was I still standing? I struggled to feel the ground beneath my feet, tapping my foot to make sure it was still there, yet I couldn't help but feel I was floating. My knees weakened and almost shook violently beneath my robes, which we wore whenever we were in the presence of the Queen.

"Hullo, Cyrin!" Anakin beamed at me, coming my way from across the room. A song, that's what his voice was to me, a song which no one else could sing but him. I wished with all my being that I could have been the only person to ever hear it. "I was hoping I could see Padmè, if that's possible."

I opened my mouth to speak, but Queen Amidala approached and spoke instead.

"I'm sorry, Annie," She said calmly, "But I've sent Padmè out on an errand."

"Oh, well I'm going to the Jedi temple to start my training, I hope." He replied looking more than crestfallen. "I may not see her again...and so....I just wanted to say goodbye."

"We'll tell her, Annie," The Queen replied, using a nickname I had only heard Padmè use before. Silence fell upon us.

"Our hearts, and hers, go with you." I added quickly, hoping he would note the affection I tried to hint with my words and tone.

He smiled at me, purely with the joy that Padmè's heart, not mine, was with him. The realist in my head never missed an opportunity remind me that I was so utterly unlovable to him.

"Thank you." He grinned. "I'm sorry to have disturbed you, your Highness." He bowed, and then ran off as quickly as he had come. His joy lingered long after he had left though, infectious and intoxicating. He overwhelmed me in ways I could hardly understand, let alone explain. Words fell short, even in my mind.

I glanced up at the Queen who was still standing next to me.

"Oh, he's a sweet boy, isn't he Cyrin?" Her Highness asked me giddily. I was astonished by this sudden change in her demeanor. How severely she resembled Padmè after she had come in after seeing Annie that night.

"Is m'lady feeling alright?" I asked sounding as worried, and as far from skepticism, as possible. Almost as quickly as the role reversal had came, it disappeared, and where had once stood two friends now stood Queen and servant.

"Yes, thank you, Cyrin. That will be enough for the evening. Send Rabè and Eirtaè before you go out to accomplish any personal errands." Amidala replied sternly. I bowed, almost grateful that the status quo had returned to what I had come to learn. Although I had always wanted the Queen and I to have the personal relationship she had with Padmè and Rabè, now that I had witnessed the reality of such a relationship, I was almost petrified. How strange it would be to truly be friends with someone of such stature! I doubted my relationship with the Queen would ever progress further than it already had, no matter how often I was reminded that she, along with my other "sisters," were family to me now. How the Queen could ever play the role of my jokester of a brother was beyond me, and frankly, quite frightening to imagine. I bowed before I scurried out of the quarters.

"Oh, Cyrin," Amidala called after me, almost pleadingly. "Try to carry yourself with grace. A handmaiden of the Queen should not run from place to place. Hold yourself with pride."

"Yes, of course, milady. I apologize, milady."

Couldn't she understand I had simply been hoping to catch a glance of my boy, my sun? At last, I reached the hall, hoping hopelessly to see him, perhaps call his name as I had seen in some of the holovids and run after him to profess my undying care and affection for him. But, to my dismay and sadness, he was not there. I stood there for a moment, completely unaware of the guards' eyes on me, looking sullen, I'm sure. It can't have been a flattering look for me. My dirty auburn hair had fallen messily in my face after a day of cleaning, and I was hardly in my prime. My tanned, freckled skin had familiar lines from sunburn and concentration. My eyes were hardly a twinkling blue like Eirtaè's, nor were they mysteriously dark like Padmè's. Instead, my eyes were green, and large. I often joked I had looked terrified all the time, with the girls, and it was all due to the fact I was surrounded by those fiendish politicians.

"Cyrin?"

I sighed in exasperation. Obi-Wan always seemed to find me when I least was in the mood to see him. Yet, regardless of how much I wanted to avoid contact with him in this moment, I could not deny that his soothing presence worked its way into my tired body and I suddenly felt like collapsing into deep, dreamless slumber. My shoulder slackened, and my fingers curled towards my palm as every muscle in my body seemed to relax.

"Hello, Obi-Wan," I replied dreamily. "I was just heading into the quarters, won't you join me? We may address whatever brings you here once in the privacy of those walls."

"Milady, you are mistaken if you believe you will find privacy anywhere in this world." He smiled, as he stopped in front of me, waiting for me to cross the hall and enter the quarters, thus inviting him in behind me. I obliged, entering the room to find Eirtaè and the Jedi padawan who had been with Xaair and Obi-Wan the day they had trained us, whose name, I discovered without the aid of a formal introduction, was Dakarus, were both sitting on the long gray sofa together. As soon as we entered, they stood, and their hushed words ceased completely. Eirtaè blushed. Her feelings for Dakarus were no secret to me. Of course she knew not to come between a Jedi and his call, so she and Dakarus remained friends. The energetic brown haired, exotically blue eyed boy never spoke of any love for her, and of course all Jedi secrets remained secrets to those of us who were not talented enough to wheedle our way into others' minds. Despite how casually I reacted to the situation, Obi-Wan appeared shocked.

"Dakarus?"

"Oh, hi Obi-Wan." Dakarus smiled sheepishly. "I see you've come here in your spare hours as well."

"I rarely do," Obi-Wan replied, "This is the first time I've come on my personal leave. You seem comfortable here, however."

"He only comes to visit me when I'm here alone," Eirtaè replied, quickly realizing her words had only insinuated more perverse thoughts than Obi-Wan had already. "...To keep me company, I mean." She looked at me pleadingly, begging me to release her and Dakarus from whatever scolding Obi-Wan had in mind for them.

"This is absolutely childish---" Obi-Wan began. Finally, I had found the words to set Eirtaè free from this.

"Er, Eirtaè and Rabè are needed at once by the Queen," I said, turning to face Obi-Wan. His face softened as his eyes met mine, leading me to believe that my plan had twisted its way into his mind, halting his angry philippic before it had even truly began. I turned back to Eirtaè whose face was still twisted with stress and anxiety. "You best find Rabè and head across the hall immediately."

"I'll help you find Rabè," Dakarus volunteered to Eirtaè.

"I think its time you head to meditation." Obi-Wan replied flatly. Dakarus nodded.

"Yes, sure, of course." He bowed to Eirtaè, then to me, and left quickly. Eirtaè followed without a word to either of us, and soon Obi-Wan and I were all alone.

"That was unnecessarily harsh." I said, as soon as the door had slid shut behind Eirtaè. "Since when is it a crime for two friends to share a conversation? I thought you were an adamant supporter of friends "sharing thoughts"."

"I am," Obi-Wan replied. "But you couldn't feel it. You couldn't feel the atmosphere Dakarus would have pursued."

"You think I can't tell when two teenagers have a fondness for each other?" I snapped. "Of course I can. I, of all people, understand the feelings in the air when those emotions are surging through it. But I know Eirtaè. And I know Dakarus. They understand the boundaries of their relationship."

"Truly?" Obi-Wan asked. "I think you give them too much credit. We are human, we are men. Our desires are often...difficult to control."

The air thickened with words, feelings, that were unspoken.

"Oh, don't be so upset, Obi-Wan. I understand your frustration. But you have to believe me; Dakarus and Eirtaè would never do anything to jeopardize their standing with the Order and with the Queen, respectively." I pleaded as much as my pride would allow. I threw in a strained smile for good measure. He nodded reluctantly. "You said business brought you here, Obi-Wan?"

"I never said anything," Obi-Wan replied, grinning his boyish grin. "But a business of sorts did bring me here."

I retrieved two 'cups of joe,' as I had heard the locals call it, and handed one to Obi-Wan. The smell of the warm, dark coffee surrounded me in a blanket of comfort. I needed the boost to keep me awake, though.

"Cyrin, there's something I need to talk to you about. And it may seem terrible of me for even needing to clear the air, but I need to ask."

"Are you going to explain your entire train of thought to me, or are you actually going to ask me what's on your mind?" I smiled weakly. I already knew what he was going to ask. It was inevitable. And he always had a way of asking those questions I never wanted to answer.

"Have you been secretly been seeing Anakin?"

I laughed. I'm not sure exactly why I laughed, but I did, uproariously at that. Obi-Wan was bewildered, I was sure I had finally convinced him of my insanity. If there was ever a doubt in his mind, it was gone now.

"Cyrin, you know I've respected you since the first day we met. Those things you said, about experience defining a person, were profound from a girl who grew up _knitting_ her entire life. And perhaps Eirtaè understands what it means to respect the boundaries of a Jedi, but I know you may not understand." He rambled quickly, again feeling the need to justify himself and his logic. The coolness of his voice had faded, giving way to what almost sounded like panic.

"Obi-Wan, for the love of all that is good, would you please slow down?! Why would you ask a question without even waiting to hear my answer before you accuse me of such unjust things. Anakin has never given me so much as a second look, let alone a secret midnight meeting. Where did you even get such an idea?" I asked, still chuckling.

"I know he sneaks out. And I know how you feel about him."

The smile instantly evaporated from my face, and the comforting scent of coffee suddenly soured and tasted stagnant as I sipped it. _Poise_, I thought to myself, _A lady of the queen does not fight with a Jedi._

"You need not worry about my feelings." I replied. "They are a secret to all those who respect the privacy of my soul, Obi-Wan. The privacy of _my soul._ You have no right to violate that!" My voice grew more and more vicious with each word, despite how I tried to subdue the fire and brimstone inside of me. My chest felt swollen and painful with anger. How many times would we have this conversation? How many times would he play his tricks, inviting himself into places he didn't belong? How many times would he invite himself into my mind?

"The privacy of your soul ceases to exist when you see him and your eyes light up as if you're staring at the sun itself." He said slowly, and quietly. I wanted to cry. In this moment, there was no comfort in anything. No breeze, no warmth, no smell, no aura. There was nothing that could banish or fight the disappointment and embarrassment building inside of me. My eyes burned with hot tears as I resisted the urge to blink. As soon as I did, I swear I could hear the sound of a tear drop come into contact and blend with the fabrics of my robes. I dared not look up at my attacker. "I meant no personal attack by this, Cyrin, you must believe me."

"Oh, Obi." It was the first time I had used the shorten version of his name. "I think its time you left. Please."

Before I even had the chance to look up, the only calming presence in the room had left.

And I wept for myself, allowing the self pity and defeat to finally consume me. I didn't want this life anymore. There was glamour, but there was loneliness and pain and the constant reminder that I was never meant to be here in the first place. I wept as my heart screamed at my own treachery, having betrayed our secret and broken it anew. Obi-Wan's question had done nothing but solidify in my mind that I was not Anakin's love. If I had even spent more than minute on his mind, it would have been a miracle. Alas, I had not. And I never would. Finally I learned; There is no balm for a broken heart.


	7. Solace and Pride

**Hiiii. (:  
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**Yes, I am aware of the ridiculous updates for this. Its really been picking up for me, and I'm excited to get further along into the story. I hope you are too. **

**Thanks for those who have reviewed. Please just take one minute out of your busy day to let me know what you think. It'd be really lovely. (:**

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Obi-Wan had shaken me. I found little solace in my work as it no longer proved a distraction for my racing thoughts. The greatest tragedy I have discovered in life is the moment when something new and exciting loses its charm and simply becomes routine. And it happens to everything. Although I still have much to learn about the political life on Coruscant, I have adjusted to it quickly, no longer to be enthralled and overwhelmed by the speed and daring of the people in this system. The fact of the matter is, I was not upset purely to have lost the newness of life, but to have lost the distraction it provided. I could act as a handmaiden now, while being completely consumed by my thoughts. Thoughts which consisted of Obi-Wan's words playing over and over again in my head.

True, he had said nothing that would have personally offended to me to his knowledge. And true, it was not necessarily his words that caused so much pain. In fact, it was hardly him at all. What I struggled with most was the thoughts I could not control. My own self defeating attitude was what had slain me. It was not Obi-Wan, but myself, that had cursed myself with the wretched feeling of unworthiness that seemed to turn the very blood in my veins to lead.

"Your Majesty," Captain Panaka said, suddenly entering the Queen's meeting chambers and bowing, with Ginger-Hair in tow. "Senator Palpatine has been nominated to succeed Valorum as Supreme Chancellor."

Before allowing the Queen even a moment to reply, Ginger Hair/Palpatine, spoke.

"A surprise, to be sure, but a welcome one. I promise you, Your Majesty, if I am elected, I will bring democracy back to the Republic. I will put an end to corruption. The Trade Federation will lose its influence over the bureaucrats, and our people will be freed." I turned and raised a skeptic eyebrow towards Eirtaè. This was quite the hefty promise, even for a politician. We all knew such words would have been the equivalent of suicide had he spoken them in a more public setting. For someone approaching the seat of power, he seemed almost foolishly arrogant, like a child with their concrete, absolutist attitude, almost.

"Who else can be nominated?" Amidala asked, hopefully, but sounding slightly suspicious.

"Bail Antilles of Alderaan and Ainlee Teem of Malastare." Panaka replied.

"Oh but I feel confident our... "situation" will create a strong sympathy vote for us... I will be Chancellor, I promise you." I shuddered at Palpatine's words. It was so faint, so subtle, but there was a hunger for power in his voice that I could not have mistaken for anything else. Clearly, as politicians do, he was working in his own interest, instead of those of his people.

"I fear by the time you have control of the bureaucrats, Senator, there will be nothing left of our cities, our people, our way of life..."

"I understand your concern, Your Majesty," he began. "Unfortunately, the Federation has possession of our planet. The law is in their favor."

_Then the law is wrong._ I thought to myself.

"With the Senate in transition, there is nothing more I can do here..." Amidala replied gravely, her eyes catching mine and Eirtaè's as she spoke. "This is your arena, Senator, I feel I must return to mine. I have decided to go back to Naboo. My place is with my people."

Eirtaè and I bowed lowly and quickly before returning to the Queen's personal quarters to gather the last of her belongings. I opened her closet, which was almost bare due to our preparation for this sudden move, but found a heap of handmaiden's robes in the corner. Quickly, without asking questions, I picked up the robes and folded them in a separate pile to be returned to our possessions, where they belonged. While folding though, a small, hand carved pendent necklace fell from the mess and I froze.

"Eirtaè," I asked, "Why are Padmè's robes and necklace in the Queen's closet?"

Eirtaè looked at me, defensively at first, then smiled sweetly.

"I'll explain to you on the trip back to Naboo," She replied quickly. "We must hurry now. The Queen loves to make a quick, dramatic exit. There is no time to be squandered here."

Heeding her words I wrapped the pendent in the robes and handed them to Eirtaè.

"You know the secret, you deal with these." I smiled so she would understand I was not being rude. Yet, I watched as she placed the robes in the Queen's clothing case. This would be an insult to royalty, yet she did it anyway. Casually. As if she had done so a hundred times before.

Turning my attention back to the task at hand, I listened, as I worked, to Palpatine's pathetic pleas to the Queen for her to "stay where it was safe." I tried not to laugh. We all knew he didn't truly care about the Queen's well being.

"No place is safe, if the Senate doesn't condemn this invasion." Amidala replied sternly, not giving way to irritation which flecked her words, threatening to break through her stoic composure. "It is clear to me now that the Republic no longer functions as a democracy. If you win the election, Senator, I know you will do everything possible to stop the Federation. I pray you will bring sanity and compassion back to the Senate."

Those were words of dismissal, and Palpatine left the quarters obediently.

In less than an hour, we'd be on a ship. And by the end of the day, I'd have set foot on a third planet.

The excitement was nearly unbearable. And I was thankful for the distraction.

* * *

As our taxi approached the dock where the ship was located, I couldn't help but notice three familiar robed figures. No doubt it was Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, and Annie. I nearly froze. Why were they coming with us? I wanted even just one experience in which I could possibly have escaped my feelings for Anakin, yet I could not. Even now, he was with me. And I could hardly complain. Yet, the atmosphere swam with contradictions that I could hardly bare. Obi-Wan's cool composure reminded me of the feeling in the shower of the water falling smoothly and gently across my bare skin, dripping gently onto me feet. Warm and gentle, yet calmly invigorating. Still, there was Anakin. The sun! And it was so bright with excitement, dampened only slightly by the thoughts that he may not become a Jedi. His joy quickly became my joy. And no matter how I tried to resist, I was drawn to him. Following closely behind Queen Amidala, we approached the three Jedi, all our faces, except for hers, covered by the fiery red cloth that had become so typical.

"Your Highness," Qui-Gon bowed quickly, "It is our pleasure to continue to serve and protect you."

I watched Annie as he stood uncomfortably behind Obi-Wan, peering around to try and find Padmè. If he could have found her, I'd have been glad to know where she was as well. He smiled at Sabè, Padmè's replacement, who stood next to me. Clearly he had mistaken the two.

"I welcome your help." Amidala replied almost sounding as if she regretted admitting her desire for aid. "Senator Palpatine fears the Federation means to destroy me."

"I promise you, I will not let that happen." Qui-Gon replied comfortingly. Something about him seemed so father like, I couldn't help but wonder if he had children. The way his words were comforting and natural seemed to put everyone around him at ease, yet I knew there was more to him than meets the eye. There was something daring in him. Something that told me, if he didn't agree with the law, he would make the law agreeable.

As I followed Amidala to the ship, I stole a glance at Obi-Wan who, not surprisingly, avoided my gaze and refused to acknowledge my presence. Clearly, he was still shaken from our last meeting, as well. And I could not blame it. Without knowing how or why, he had set into action an avalanche of emotions that left me vulnerable and angry. He must have felt the blame had been placed on him. And, initially, it had. But I could not deny that the blame truly lied with me and the instability that I had allowed to consume me. I regretted more than anything that my own toxic personality had so seriously affected those around me. Especially Obi-Wan. He was the first true friend I had ever had.

Once aboard the ship, I went straight the hand maiden's bunked quarters to rest. I was tired, and I had yet to discover my "flying legs," so I had been teased. Take off was atrocious for me, and I knew I would have more luck avoiding injury lying down that attempting to stand and socialize with the rest. I climbed into a bunk, nuzzled my face into the pillow and sighed contentedly as the tense, tired muscles in my body began to relax and melt. I could hardly tell where the bed ended and I began, truly feeling as if I had melted away into some alternate state of being.

"You're right to try and rest now," Obi-Wan said, the moment I had heard the door slide open. "Naboo will not be the vacation you had perhaps intended."

I opened my eyes, but did not turn to face him yet. What do you even say in times like this?

"Obi-Wan," I began softly, barely even a whisper. "I'm sorry." Rolling over to face him, I sat up and saw that he looked slightly taken aback, but still as calm and collected as ever. For all this soothing attributes, there was almost something intimidating in his composure. Perhaps it was that I so surely lacked any ounce of composure. Although I had skill in hiding most of my thoughts and feelings from others, I rarely was skilled in remaining cool in moments of stress. "My feelings of Anakin are... of an extremely personal nature to me. Perhaps if you had understood, you would not have even approached the subject. Nonetheless, I feel the need to admit to you that I am not the one whom Anakin holds affections for, despite how I had hoped I would be. I knew him, I felt him, I heard him, long before this planet and these people had. Yet, I am the one that lies forgotten. No--not forgotten...To be forgotten one must first be recognized, isn't that true? I was never even seen the way I had hoped I would be. As you can imagine this subject is difficult for me."

I would have continue rambling, yet, something in his demeanor changed. And it silenced me. He sat on down on the bunk next to me, mindful of the distance that must be maintained.

"Your hands are still rough and calloused from your work on Tatooine." He stated. A twinge of frustration nibbled at my thoughts. I had confirmed what he had surely already known, already seen in the depths of my mind, yet he was commenting on my callouses? My scars that proved how little I belonged here, those were his focus. And I could not understand why. He took my hand, as if inspecting it, the marks that had betrayed the secrets of the life I had known before. As he inspected, I did as well. Every inch of my body seemed to be a testament, a reminder, of those unfriendly hands that had been there before. These memories were easy for me to subdue, for they were memories that added no value to my life. Yet, I felt each one welling up as Obi-Wan found mark after mark of pain.

"Ah, there it is." He replied, pointing to a small round scar in the tip of my finger. "There's the mark of where we met, of where things began to change. You know, you are not so different than the people here."

I raised an eyebrow skeptically.

"We all have our scars. Yours just happen to be more visible."

The warmth of his skin against mine was overwhelming. I savored every ounce of physical contact I received from other people in tender moments. Yet, this was difference. I could feel his pulse, I could feel the life inside of him. And I wondered if he felt the blood pumping through my veins.

"Why are you ashamed of who you are?" He asked.

"I am _not_ ashamed." I replied sternly. "I am merely too proud to face my faults." Pause. "You couldn't see that with your Jedi mind tricks?" I asked jokingly.

He laughed warmly,

"Oh, I'm sure I could have. But I've learned my lesson."

We both laughed at that, and only after the laughter had subsided did I realize his hand was still holding mine.

I stared at it and he stared as well; Both of us sure of the knowledge that this was something that could possible be deemed, "unacceptable." Still, neither of us moved, as if frozen in the terror and newness and confusion as to what we were doing or feeling. And I wondered if Anakin's hand would feel as warm and full of life as his. Would his smaller, more child like hands have the same comfort as Obi-Wan's? I wanted, more than anything to find out. And did he smell so strongly of sweet cinnamon and must? Or was his the smell of the streets of Mos Espa, dirty yet intriguing, that which could never be duplicated? Obi-Wan stood up abruptly.

"I must go to the main deck. I'm sure we'll be approaching soon." He said, with what emotion, I could not read. "I'm sorry to have disturbed your rest."

The door slid open, then shut, and he was gone.

My senses tingled as the warmth of where his hand had been was invaded by the cold air. Soon, the warmth had gone completely.


	8. Strength and Vulnerability

Once on the planet, we set out on a quest through the Nabooian swamps searching for the Gungans. The tension was unmistakable. Our entire party knew what awaited should we be captured by the foul Federation, and so we walked in almost complete silence, observing and straining our ears for even the slightest sound of a scout droid or an actual life form. Yet, I could hear Padmè and Anakin's hushed whispers, from a distance behind me, as if they had been standing right next to me. I could hear and feel Anakin as if he was talking to me, but remained haunted by the nagging reality in my head which never failed to remind me that he was not.

Soon enough, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon stopped behind our Gungan guide, and friend, Jar Jar. Anakin and Padmè became silent, as did the rest of the party. _Surely we now face capture,_ I thought to myself. From the lush green protection of the shrubbery surrounding us emerged a party of about six, or so, Gungans. They sat upon the strangest looking creatures I had ever seen, riding them as majestically as a strangely colored floppy eared being could. I tried hard to stifle my laughter, yet still received a harsh glare from one of them. It was then I learned one of my most valuable lessons; Even the most laughable creatures in the galaxy could make frightening, ferocious opponents. And, as Jar Jar had explained earlier, Gungans were fighters. Meaning, they should not be laughed at by a teenage girl.

"Heyooo-dalee, Captain Tarpals!" Jar Jar exclaimed respectfully to the Gungan who appeared to be the leader.

"Binks?!?! Noooah gain!" Tarpals replied, sounding exasperated. Apparently, he was not happy to see Jar Jar. Although Jar Jar could sometimes be a nuisance, a bit clumsy and oblivious, he was kind hearted, and I enjoyed him very much. He was funny.

"We comen to see da boss." Jar Jar replied, standing his ground as Tarpal rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Ouch time, Binks... Ouch time for all-n youse."

Once I had deciphered his words, I still unsurprised. Gungans were hostile. But all they needed was to be reasoned with, as with all allies. They simply needed to be pleased. We followed the guards to a clearing which was near the brim with refugees, whom had fled from their home once attack had threatened them. Suddenly, I was saddened. An entire race had been forced to leave their homes despite their own desires to stay. I was not the only one.

"Jar Jar," A deep voice said, almost laughingly. "Yousa payen dis time. Who's da ussen others?"

I struggled to decipher his words, as they were a rather deformed version of the common tongue. The way he spoke, though, dripped with a poison that told me we were not welcome. Amidala stepped forward to speak,

"I am Queen Amidala of the Naboo... I come to you in peace."

"Naboo biggen! Yousa bringen da Mackineeks.. Dya busten uss-en omm. Yousa all bombad. Yousa all die'n, mesa tink." The Boss said ironically, a monstrously huge and menacing smile spreading across his face upon speaking his final sentence.

"We wish to form an alliance---" Suddenly, Padmè stepped forward. And I knew instantly her purpose. It made sense, after finding her robes in the closet. The Queen rarely displayed a side personable to have won such a landslide vote for the throne on Naboo. Padmè, however, had managed to maintain all the skills needed to rule while still seeming like she could have been anyone's daughter or sister or cousin. She made people feel cared for. And as we stood, faced with homeless, scared, yet proud, Gungans, it was clear that her skills and personality were exactly the asset we would need to succeed.

"Your Honor. I am Queen Amidala. This is my decoy...my protection...my loyal bodyguard." Padmè smiled at, who I assumed to be Sabè, considering they were never in the same room, as handmaidens, at the same time. "I am sorry for my deception, but under the circumstances it has become necessary to protect myself. Although we do not always agree, Your Honor, our two great societies have always lived in peace...until now. The Trade Federation has destroyed all that we have worked so hard to build. You are hiding, my people are in camps; If we do not act quickly, all will be lost forever. I ask you to help us. No, I beg you to help us."

With this, she knelt. Some gasped. But I smiled. Padmè was not the evil I had made her out to be. Perhaps she loved Anakin, even. Of course, she couldn't the way I did. My entire being loved and longed for him. But she knew when to bo. And I had more respect for her now than I ever had before.

"We are your humble servants... our fate is in your hands."

Quickly, realizing what was required of me, I bowed. Soon, our entire group had. But each and everyone of us feared our display of humbleness had been in vain; Boss laughed, slowly, and deeply.

"Yousa no tinken yousa greater den da Gungans... Mesa like dis. Maybe...maybe wesa bein friends."

As I lay prostrated to this race, whose plight was so similar to my own, I smiled to myself. This world made sense to me. There was an air of respect and unity, and a desire to preserve what made one a living being, that I could not resist. I had fallen in love with Naboo.

* * *

Our plan had been well conceived; The Gungans would divert all of the Federation's forces by battling a distance away from the palace. Our spare pilots would attack the Federation ship in orbit, which transmits and commands the droid army, disarm it, and destroy it; leaving the droids useless. Meanwhile, Padmè, Rabè, myself, the Captain, Obi-Wan, and Qui-Gon, along with about twenty or so Nabooian guards would storm the palace, and capture the Viceroy in the throne chambers. With him in custody, the Federation would be lost, leading to their surrender and an end to the blockade. By this time, I had grown almost fond of Padmè, and the fact that this had all been her plan did not upset me. Although, Anakin's presence may have distracted my attentions from her.

His eagerness to learn was admirable, and admittedly, amusing. He followed Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon like an enamored pet, trying desperately to mimic everything from their movements, the way they presented themselves, and the way they spoke. Often times, I would over hear him trying to copy Obi-Wan's composed tone of voice, yet it seemed so foreign to him. I could appreciate the attempt, yet, I almost hated it. I had hoped he would never try to cage himself. His strength and beauty, they very light that radiated off him, his passion for everything living, could not be contained by Obi-Wan's personality, and no matter how he tried, he would fail. You can not fit a square into a circle, you can not keep the sun from shining, and you can not put passion in a box. There are somethings you just can not contain.

I took a deep breath as I saw Captain Panaka and Rabè signal to us from the court yard. Our attack would begin....

Now.

Alarms sounded as we stormed the hangar, my heart pumping so loudly in my ears that I could hardly hear the droids firing at us. I followed Padmè closely. Despite the fact that she had not one, but two, trained Jedi defending her did not displace me from my duty of protecting her as well. I pointed my blaster at a buzzing, tan, blaster droid, and paused a second to watch as the metal melted where my shot had hit. The situation being what it was, that is what I remember the most. The fiery glow of the destroyed metal. It was one of the most beautiful colors I had ever seen.

Torn back to reality by the shouts of one of the Queen's soldiers, I realized this was a battle. And in my moment of distraction, I could have been killed. I turned to the droid which was nearest to me, and blasted it. I was suddenly thankful for all of Obi-Wan's training, yet this time, I did not pause to stop and admire my work.

Adrenaline filled my veins as I shot right and left. I had almost found a rhythm to it when I heard Padmè shouting to the pilots to get to their ships. The moment I had initially heard her voice fill the hangar, I had mistaken it as a sign she had been wounded, and turned to face her, reacting instantly the sound. As if sensing my distraction, a droid fired at me mindlessly. I stood, frozen in that instant. How was I still breathing? Droids rarely shot without killing, yet here I was; Alive.

Captain Panaka, Rabè, and the rest of the troops filled the hangar and overwhelmed the remaining droids. Finally, the pain defeated the adrenaline that had given strength and resistance to my body, and I toppled over, putting as much pressure on the wound in my side as possible. I tried desperately to ignore the acrid scent of burnt flesh as I removed my hands to inspect the damage. A new hand had been placed on my side, and I looked up to see Padmè. Her face was calm, almost relieved, but her deep brown eyes held a hint of worry.

"I'll be fine, milady." I said, attempting to ease her dismay. "I now have a mark to prove I have done my job. And yours is not yet finished."

She smiled at me, and I noticed a new face crouched above hers. This one appearing more blatantly worried than hers had.

"Milady, we must reach the Viceroy as soon as possible. He will already be alerted of our presence here," Obi-Wan said.

My eyes shot around wildly, and I caught only a glimpse of the determination set into Padmè's face as she stood up. Obi-Wan replaced her, peeling the mangled cloth I wore away from the wound.

"You'll need to stay here, in the hangar." He said, sounding rather remorseful. "We can not afford to carry you with us."

I nodded and said,

"I understand. It was foolish of me to have become so distracted."

Before I had even finished speaking, he was gone; Off to continue the mission. A field healer approached me.

"You're bleeding much more heavily than I had expected, but you're lucky you were facing the other way. It would have been a fatal wound had you taken it straight on." The man's soothing voice replied. "I'm Andan. Andan Brannus. And I'm a healer."

"I assumed as much." I replied grittily.

So distracted had I been by one battle, that I hardly noticed the other one occurring right before me. Battle droids had swarmed the hangar and were firing at Padmè's troupe as the fled from the hangar to the next level of their attack. Anakin, who had taken shelter in the cock pit of a fighter ship, spun the ship and fired at the droids, and at us, indirectly. Andan cursed violently and threw his body over me, as is customary for a field healer to do, as the shots bounced and ignited around us. Once the majority of the firing had stopped, he dragged me behind a stack of containers.

"Are you alright?!" He asked, his face right above mine, and his hands pressing the wound in my side. "Damned kid shooting at us like that."

"He was trying to help us." I snapped. "If it hadn't have been for him, those droids would have killed us."

"Sure enough. But he could work on his aim. You're lucky he only grazed your arm." Andan ran is smooth hands across the surface of the bare skin surrounding the wound, sending shudders throughout my body. What was this feeling? Death? Or perhaps something else.

"Am I going to live?" I asked. Moments, and things, to live for, flashed before my eyes. Anakin, Padmè, this beautiful planet. I could not leave it yet. My role was not over yet. Or I, at least, was not ready to relinquish it.

"I hope so." Andan replied, his kind hazel eyes smiling at the corners. "I'd feel bad for you if a wound like this took you out. Just have to stop all this bleeding."

I watched the lines in his face change from joking and kind to concentrated and determined. The brown, sun-kissed skin on his nose wrinkled as he focused on---

"Ahh! Ow! What the hell---" I winced as he pulled bits of cloth from the festering, oozing, bloodied wound and cried out as he poured something from his field kit into it.

"Just some antibacterials to clean out the wound. The infection could kill you if I don't sterilize it," He explained curtly, stifling a chuckle from my outburst. I set my face into a hardened pout. How could he possibly be joking in a time like this? I was a gory mess, and he was joking!

"Well, now that we've got all the science cleared up..." I replied, unsure of where I was even going with my dialogue. It seemed that conversation would have been the best distraction, until he grabbed my hand.

"I've got to bandage you up," He said, still holding my hand tightly. The feel of his skin against mine, the touch of another person, was almost overwhelming. I had witnessed so much, in such short time, and still, my mind could only process his hand squeezing mine tightly. "Your arm isn't too bad, just burned. This, though... it'll be quite the exciting battle scar to show your lover back home."

I laughed and coughed at this. My lover. I would be lucky if I even had the opportunity to show it to be my beloved.

"What lover?" I asked mockingly. "If I ever have a lover, it will be the work of miracles."

Releasing my hand, Andan crawled around to the side where my arm had been grazed and began bandaging it slightly. He eyed me disbelievingly as he worked.

"Everyone knows the handmaidens of the Queen are the most quality lovers," He smiled slightly. "Beautiful, charming, intelligent; Available, but always unattainable."

"Well..." I tasted this statement as if tasting a rare wine, listening to the sound of each word before delivering a response. I thought of Anakin. It was no wonder he had been so magnetically attracted to Padmè. If the handmaidens were so attractive, the Queen herself must be irresistible to others. And if those women I had known as my comrades were such adequate lovers, they were also very skilled as secret keepers, and very deserving of my interrogation. Assuming we survived this, that is. "I'm new."

"I noticed. I've seen you with the Queen, but only recently." He slid down, to my waist. "I'll need to sit you up just a bit so we can fix this up." I obliged, scooting myself against the crates behind us, wincing as I did. The spot was so extremely tender that if I so much as moved my leg, it stabbed at my nerves viciously. He proceeded to lift my tunic, revealing my skinny sternum, and the faint outline of my protruding rib cage, which curved to my waist, which expanded to my gory hip, exposing the wound. I blushed slightly. I had never been given this kind of attention from anyone, let alone an attractive man. But his hands were so soft. And as he brushed against the sensitive skin of my navel, back, and hip, I felt my fortresses tumble down. Here, in my bloodied, bruised, and torn state, I was completely vulnerable to him; a stranger.

"I'm assuming you're the new girl from the desert planet." He said, as he finished his work. I could only nod, still reeling from the sensations his touch had given me. "Why'd you come here?"

"I didn't have a choice." I replied, smiling weakly. I had come to realize, however, that this horrible, evil, and terrible mistake that had been made, had quickly become the life I knew. I had adapted much faster than I had thought I would. Thoughts of home plagued me only when I was questioned about it. Suddenly, I was overtaken by nausea.

"Oh, no no no," He said warningly. "Don't make that face. That's not good."

"Nasea." I replied, with one word.

"Yeah, I could tell."

Quickly, he tilted me forward and towards my left, where my wounds resided painfully, and I vommitted violently.

"Seems there maybe some internal trauma. Or maybe just some mental." He said as he knocked my head gently and jokingly, then wiped my face. I watched him as he stood up, gathered his kit, and picked me up. I wrapped my arm behind his neck in an attempt to ease the burden of my weight.

"You don't weigh a thing," He said, his voice so smooth and sweet it reminded me of honey, my favorite delicacy I had discovered on Coruscant. "Don't you ever eat?"

I smiled at his joke. My weight had still not reached the "suitable" range, and it was difficult to put on weight when I was used to consuming such small amounts of food when home had been Tatooine.

"I used to live like a slave." I said. He looked down at me, as he carried to me out of the hangar, as if I had spewed complete gibberish.

"Hey now, don't get like that with me," He said in the same warning, but friendly tone from earlier. "Don't you start slurring your words, you hear me?"

My vision blurred, only slightly at first, until his face was almost completely out of focus. I blinked in an attempt to clear my vision, but it failed.

Once your mind decides to shut down, there's no telling it otherwise.


	9. To Speak and to Feel

For the second time since I had become a part of this new world, I found myself exploring the strange world that existed between consciousness and nothingness. For the second time, my mind lingered in a mysterious, dark place where the voices of the world I knew echoed strangely through the darkness. I braved lifting one, heavy eyelid, just to see where I was; last I remembered clearly, I was lying near passed out in a flight hangar. The room I was now in, however, came into focus looking much, much different than the hangar. An almost pristine white room surrounded me. Even the person standing near me was wearing all white, contrasted by his tanned skin and dark hair.

"Well, hello there." The man smiled at me. "Do you remember me? I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't."

"Oh hell..." I muttered scratchily to myself. Not only did my throat burn with fire, and not only did my lungs feel as if they couldn't even contain the oxygen I inhaled, but I observed a large, darkened bandage wrapped across my waist. "The Queen?"

"Loyal to the end?" He-whoever he was- asked rather smugly. "Don't worry. All has ended well on Naboo. You're in Her Highness's royal hospital. Her team captured the Viceroy, and ended the blockade. We are finally at peace, again."

I sighed in relief. At least this endeavor had ended successfully. I felt a pang of embarrassment as I realized I was the only one in the hospital room. Had I been the only to be seriously wounded? I had never imagined myself to be the girl who would act heroically, blessed with the ability to fight viciously when defending those she loved. Yet I had always hoped I wouldn't be the burden either; the lagging wounded who could not fend for herself. I had never imagined that I would be the one left vulnerable. Yet, here I was, depending on the benevolence of those around me for the second time. I had finally realized why so many viewed me as a charity project of the Queen; I had not proven myself to be otherwise, and thus suffered the predicament I faced now.

"Don't look like that..." the man said, attempting to ease my obvious disappointment. "Your wound is serious, but nothing you can't truly recover from."

I stayed silent, then finally spoke, sounding more blunt and unfeeling than I had intended.

"Why are you here?"

"To change that bandage of yours, of course." Man replied. "Now sit up a bit."

I moved to lift my tunic, in my hardly conscious state, only to find that it had been torn at the base of my rib cage.

"You'll understand the damage, I'm sure." Man talked as he began unwinding the cloth to reveal a gaping wound above my left hip. I shuddered as I saw the pale white of bone peering through the wound, slightly. It was much cleaner than I had remembered seeing it, yet I found it harder to see this way. The damage was evident, muscles that had once covered the tip of my hip bone had been seared leaving nothing to protect the bone itself. The skin did not smell of burnt flesh anymore, in fact it had no odor at all. Yet the sight of ones own veins, muscles, and tissues is sickening. My throat tightened, and I quickly looked the opposite way. "We had to rip the tunic to make changing your bandages easier while you were out cold." His hands brushed against my skin, and I could feel his cold, but soft, fingers sending a rippling shudder throughout my body. Instantly, I knew the man again, recognized him from the hangar.

"Andan." I said his name to myself.

"So you do remember me?" Andan smiled at me, revealing straight, white teeth and dry lips, whose cracks became more evident as they stretched to accommodate his smile. "I was afraid you didn't for a second there. You were out for quite awhile. When someone's stuck in that world for days, you can't be sure if they even recall their own name or not. And yours is?"

"Cyrin."

"Well, Cyrin. You've had quite a few visitors, one boy inparticular." I grew almost uncontainably excited. _One boy_. That could only mean Anakin. My heart's rhythm palpitated at the even the thought that he had remembered to come see me. He had thought of me. Not only had he saved my life, but he had thought of me afterwards. He had been focused on my well being. And not in a casual manner. The way Andan spoke of that _one boy_ had insinuated that he had been in here numerous times, enough to be known as a regular visitor. I melted. And though, it was quite possible it was under Andan's touch, I was wholeheartedly convinced this was because of my Anakin. Perhaps my sacrifice for Padmè had been enough to earn his notice, if not his affection. I soared. "Actually, I guess you wouldn't call him a boy. He was about my age. Brown hair, blue eyes. The Jedi type. You know him?"

I wanted to slap Andan. I wanted to kick him and scream and run out of this hospital, following the disappointed, flighty, empty feeling in my gut. I hardly felt human underneath the thick layer of disappointment that now coated my face. No doubt, Andan had noticed. His talk became slightly more hurried, as if suddenly trying to undo whatever damage had been done.

"Visiting hours are coming up quickly. You'll have clean bandages. In fact, if you can manage it, maybe even a slow stroll through the royal gardens would do you some good. Or we could could you a hover-chair. Those are always exciting, though you don't seem the type to find childish pleasures in such things, anyway. Say, how old are you anyway?"

"I am but a child," I replied grimly, as if my age had somehow cursed me to these feelings. "Only fifteen."

"Well, you certainly act a whole lot older. I think you're the youngest of Her Highness's handmaidens. That's got to be exciting."

"You'd be surprised how unexciting it really is. In fact, I often feel much older than I really am."

"Troubles of a heavy heart?" Andan asked, finishing his work.

"If you say so." I looked around. My arm was bandaged, though it seemed more for protective purposes, good measure, more than dire necessity. "I'd be extremely grateful, Andan, if I could please get out of here. I'll come back to get my bandages changed, but I don't want to stay here."

"Well, feel free to get dressed and roam around. But you really should stay here for the night." Andan's hazel eyes found mine, and he appeared most insistent. Then, showing me the most open display of emotions I had witnessed since I left home, his demeanor changed, to shy and nervous. It was, dare I say it, _cute._ He appeared suddenly to be a small, hopeful child, wanting nothing more than to see his dreams come true. I felt my own, usually stoic and unforgiving features, relax, as if soothed by his awkward-child movements. "You know, I'd like it very much if, when you returned, we could perhaps have supper together. It would be an honor for me. And, I'm sure the hospital's cuisine is nothing as elaborate as the Queen's, but you wouldn't have to worry about your etiquette or anything. I'm good company, and conversation, I think as well."

I felt a smile spread across my face, almost involuntarily. Immediately, he looked relieved, as if the answer didn't much matter to him, as long as he had found the courage to speak those words.

"Of course. I'll be sure to return in time for supper."

I was shocked at his reaction. He absolutely glowed with excitement. His cheeks suddenly flushed with color and excitement. All because I had agreed to have dinner with him? Never before had anyone made me feel so... wanted.

"I'd like very much to change now, please." I said, as if having to immediately displace this new found affection. I could hardly handle the strength of his emotions, they overwhelmed every synapse in my being.

"Oh, yes, of course." Andan left, then quickly returned with a pale yellow dress. "The Queen asked that this be spared from her personal wardrobe for you. I think it'd be a good idea for, when you see her, if you plan on seeing her now that is, you to wear it." He handed me the material, and I swooned at the way it felt in my hands. Luckily, I was still sitting on the bed in which I had spent the past couple days. It was not only soft, and warm, but light as a feather. After I had changed into it, I realized why it was a Queen's dress. Not only was the material angelic in nature, woven from air and clouds, but it clung to every curve of my body. I did not appear as a fifteen year old. It hung loosely on my shoulders, as Padmè's build had been slightly wider than mine, and the neckline created a flattering U-shape, displaying what little cleavage I had to offer. As soon as Andan spotted me, the same child like expression emerged on his face and I couldn't help but laugh.

"You look like a Queen." He stated fondly. "How do you feel?"

"My bandages appear to be holding, and the pain is tolerable." I stated factually. I looked down to examine myself in the dress, ignoring the fact that the view I had of myself was hardly adequate of reliable. My auburn hair, which had gone unkept these past few days, seem to fall almost poetically past my shoulders. What was it about this dress that had enchanted me? Did wearing Padmè's clothes really make me appear so unearthly, so attractive.

"I'm glad." Andan noted. He explained to me the directions of the palace, and where I could possibly find the Queen, noting that the best chances I would have of finding her would be to ask a familiar face to escort me. I left the hospital bay and heard the click of my shoes on the gleaming, coldly beautiful floors of the palace. I took my first steps slowly, noting the pain which walking caused. I was astounded at how interconnected the entire human body truly was; if you so much as damaged the most miniscule muscle, there was a chance you would never walk again. Despite our adaptability, strength, and cunning, we were still so fragile. And, as I came to terms with this, the pain subsided, giving way to a stronger determination. I was not to be limited by an injury such as this one; especially given the circumstance under which I had received it. A silly mistake would not keep me from experiencing.

I continued down the halls, searching for anyone who might have been even slightly friendly or recognizable. I had earned the flirtatious acknowledgement of a few guards, whom I did not recognize, which would have been exhilarating on any other occasion. Yet, I was lost and alone. I couldn't have even wandered back to the hospital bay if I wanted to. Perspective shook my body as I realized just how small I must be, and just how expansive the palace was. I would be lost here for days, no doubt. _Poor Andan will be devastated when I do not return,_ I thought to myself, remembering the blissfully excited expressions he had worn, even as I had left him. But, the tides turned in my favor, as I felt Obi-Wan's presence, long before I had heard him. A coolness submerged me, and it silkily made its way through my entire body, calming me as his steps echoed louder and louder throughout the halls.

"Excuse me, kind lady, are you lost?" I turned towards him and smiled, a welcoming gesture I rarely gave to anyone. But today, I felt different. It was as if putting on this heavenly, satiny, gown had brought out the best sides of my personality; those quirks and kindnesses I had not yet learned to display so openly and willingly.

"Hello, Obi-Wan." I said, greeting him with a sweetness I did not recognize. He appeared slightly taken aback at first, as well. We had both been shocked by this strange, sudden, change in character.

"Cyrin," He bowed curtly. "How are you feeling?"

"The pain is manageable. But the wounds to my pride run much deeper than those which have been bandaged." I replied as my hand brushed the spot on the left side of my waist where a bulky bandage now resided. It felt as permanent to me as the color of my eyes, or the shape of my lips. Yet, there was another wound amongst us. One which Obi-Wan carried. I could feel it weighing on his heart, breaking his back with its tidal waves of sadness. "What's bothering you?"

"A great deal," Obi-Wan sighed. This had not enlightened me, merely proven my senses to be correct. Something terrible has happened. "Since the death of Qui-Gon, I have been entrusted with training Anakin. But I must confess, I hardly even know where to begin. There is so much he must learn, and so quickly. Yet, I fear it can not be done without harming him."

Soon, Obi-Wan's trouble had become mine as well. He spoke of Qui-Gon's death almost casually, clearly forgetting that I had not heard the news. Qui-Gon and I had not formed any relationship beyond that of professional, yet the thought that one of the few faces I had become accustomed to seeing, would now be never seen again. And of course, there was the obvious, almost tangible feelings of despair and guilt which Obi-Wan had tried so desperately to hide from me. As obviously as he had been able to see through me, I now could see through him, and my senses felt as if they were almost one with his. I was feeling everything with him.

"Obi-Wan..." I bit the corner of my lip for the second time in my life. "I know how much he meant to you. I'm so sorry."

Silence followed my words, as if each our hurt could not be contained by words. Daring to break the almost physical barrier which seemed to keep us so distant from each other, I grabbed his hand and held it as tenderly as he had held mine in times of comfort. Initially, his entire body had stiffened at my unpredicted, though not unprecedented touch. For an an instant, I thought I had seen the shine of tears magnifying the intense, swimming blue of his eyes, and I imagined him holding his master's dying body, and crying as he willed him to life again. So much pain lie between us that it nearly stopped my heart.

"I return to Coruscant tomorrow, to the temple, to begin his training." Obi-Wan finally said, as he lowered his head. I was sure he was blinking away the tears, and when his eyes finally met mine, they were as calm and stoic as ever. Calm, cool, and collected. Yet, I still held his hand in mine, treasuring the idea that I had been brave enough to comfort someone in this way. Despite my awkwardness with words, and my inability to accept loving physical contact from other people, I was still so full of emotion and love and care that I felt I would burst someday. Knowing that I had comforted Obi-Wan relieved some of the pressure behind the feeling of my self destruction, though. I was almost saddened as he slowly took his hand from mine, remembering the feeling of his coarse finger tips limply brushing against mine as he did so. We continued walking. If either of us had a destination, we did not make it known to the other, however.

"When will you return?" I asked innocently, not at all expecting the answer that followed. Obi-Wan chuckled weakly before looking at me and saying, rather remorsefully,

"I don't know," He replied. "The chances of us ever meeting again under happy circumstances is highly unlikely."

My expression tightened in thought and confusion.

"Where will you go now?"

"Well, after Anakin has reached a sufficient level in his training, we will begin going on assignments, as commissioned by the Council, throughout the galaxy. It is impossible to tell exactly where, or for how long."

"So, then, realistically, there is a chance I will _never_ see you again?" I asked sadly.

"It's possible," He replied. "But even if it is in the most dire of situations, I hope we meet again."

I suddenly stopped walking upon glancing out a window. There was a vast view of vegetation and shining blue pools of water scattered throughout the green, vibrant gardens behind the palace. It was almost breath taking. I walked over to the window, gently pressing my hand against the glass as if, had I just reached a little further, I could touch it and experience it all. This was the moment I truly began to see the galaxy through new eyes. This planet was so full of life, it would have been impossible to find any place throughout the galaxy that could have contrasted the desert I had known so well. Where as I had only adapted to Tatooine, I felt at home here. This was the planet I belonged to. My entire existence on Tatooine had simply been a means to an end; The end being a life here on Naboo.

I glanced back at Obi-Wan, who stood exactly where he had stopped, with a faint smile etched across his face. He looked strangely happy, and I couldn't help but hope that he would remember this moment. The sun just beginning to set across the lush Nabooian landscape, allowing sun to seep into the palace through the window I stood by, looking fiery yet sweet as the sun painted patterns across my face. Yes. If he were to remember, I hoped it would be this way.

"Have you ever seen anything more beautiful?" I asked, turning back to the portrait that had come to life before my eyes. I turned back to Obi-Wan, searching for an answer, only to find that he had silently made his way to stand behind me. I turned away from him quickly, sensing that the distance between our lips had been much too little.

"Cyrin, have dinner with me." He whispered huskily in my ear. I froze. This sort of contact was unfamiliar to me. I had never heard his voice sound so strained with emotions beyond my knowledge, and I didn't know how to react as his hand lightly traced imaginary designs the skin around the bandage on my , despite its unfamiliarity, it all felt so... _good._ I couldn't even find words, and I knew my hesitation had caused him discomfort. Suddenly, his hand dropped to his side, and I could no longer feel the warmth of his body so close to mine. I turned, he had stepped backwards in dismay. Had my lack of a response offended him so greatly? I did not understand.

"I'm so sorry," He apologized quickly, standing what seemed to be across the hall from me, though I knew the distance was not _that_ great. "I should have never... I... Well... Cyrin... I hope we meet again."

He walked of so evasively that following him was not an option.

Looking back at the Nabooian sunset, it had lost none of its beauty in my eyes. Yet, I had lost one of the few companions with whom I had to share it.

* * *

I found Padmè, as the Queen, preparing for a large celebration banquet in honor of the Naboo's return to stability. I offered my services, explaining that, regardless of my condition, I was a handmaiden, a lady of the Queen, and I existed to serve her. She laughed at me, which boiled an anger inside of me, and told me she would expect me back tomorrow, but as her friend, not her servant. I could never fathom the ideal that required her to make me feel important, and yet I despite it. It insulted what little dignity I had managed to salvage for myself since I abandoned my family, and insulted my feelings, no matter how impish, as well. Still, I agreed to see her tomorrow with the hope that I would perhaps catch a glimpse of Anakin before I left.

I struggled to imagine what the world would look like with him so far away, he was beyond feeling. It had been so long since I had not been able to feel his warmth, pulsating throughout my body as though it were part of the very blood that filled my veins, and I was almost terrified at the thought of what I should feel without him. I swore to myself that he was my only feeling, the only thing that brought me meaning, besides a friendly touch. Despite the fact that he had not yet left, I felt even lonelier now than I ever had before. I was completely alone. No one else could possibly fathom the emotions I was experiencing, having been torn from my home. Although I desperately tried to ignore the feeling that ignited my bones with loneliness, it was unavoidable, and understandable that I would miss my family. My father's warm smile and hearty jokes, and my brother's darkly cynical humor were things I had found irreplaceable in my new life, despite the many wealths I had been graciously given.

I wondered what it was about my vulture mother, my dynamic father, and my secretly tender brother that seemed so completely different than any other family I had met. It seemed, no matter the number of various suns I had seen, or the streets I had discovered, that there were no three people in existence, in the entire galaxy, that could possibly be exactly like them. I recognize that probability defies that statement; out of an entire galaxy, past and present, there in no possible, mathematical way that everyone could be an original. Yet, my family would always be irreplaceable to me. They had given me and shown me so much. My mother had always demonstrated what I did not want to become; aged and angered by the unfairness of the world, and its inability to function the way I desperately believed it could. My father never ceased to be her complete opposite, as he was thankful for everyday, regardless of his status in society, and believed that even our broken planet had beauty in it. I hoped to inherit that quality. I truly wanted to find something lovable and admirable in everything and every person that I had, and would, meet. And more than anything I hoped to be as amusing and attractive as my brother, who seemed to enthrall and exhilarate everyone he came in contact with. I _wanted_, so desperately, to be everything to other people that he had been.

And amidst all of this, I wanted to be myself. Yet, I found looking in a mirror at myself was as daunting and uninformative as peering over the edge of an endless abyss of a cliff; It's a terrifying experience that tells you nothing except that _anything_ could be down there. What was I? I was introduced as a lady of the Queen, yet I did not feel like that. But I could no longer call myself the girl from Tatooine, as I did not feel like that either. I could not describe myself as my past, or where I came from, yet where I was could not describe me either. My love for the landscape of Naboo perhaps said something of me, but what I could not decipher. The sweet scent of flowers, as it mulled its way through the air lazily, consumed my entire mind, almost putting the real world into a fog. That smell, that feeling, emblazoned me. If I had died protecting nothing more than that feeling, and that smell, I would have felt I had not died in vain.

"Perhaps you are defined by the things you would die for." Andan speculated, as we sat at dinner. I had lain in my bed, now wearing nothing but the required patients' night gown.

"Perhaps," I nodded thoughtfully, as I sipped the rich red wine Andan had brought in to the hospital wing specifically for this meal. I let it sit in my mouth, under my tongue, and tasted it with the tip, then the sides, then the back of my mouth. The taste of wood and cherry and blackberry filled my mouth subtly, slowly intoxicating my senses, begging me to share just a little bit more of myself with him. As if, if I only said a little bit more, he would understand me. The warmth of the wine filled my throat and that space between my mouth and my nose, slowly working its way into the depths of my mind. It pried at the memories and feelings that it claimed defined me, begging me to share them. If only I shared these few pains with him, they would harm me no more. "Or perhaps the things that define us are the things we wished had never happened at all."

Andan looked at me skeptically, and I immediately felt the pangs of regret nibbling away at my stomach. Could he tell that my words had been heavily influenced by the lulling song of the wine he had so graciously provided? Had that been his plan---to lure me into a place of vulnerability by offering me this delicious nectar which stained my lips with words I had not meant to speak?

"Ah," He said after awhile. "You have me there. Upon reflection, I think we'll all find that the events which have shaped us are those we would likely be wishing to forget."

"But you can't forget them," I replied with a sly smirk. "Its remarkable isn't it?"

"What is?" Andan asked, clearly intrigued by my sudden need to verbalize those sentiments which I had kept so dearly secretive before.

"How the only time in our lives we will ever be truly content are those times which we will never recall." I said exuberantly.

"I'm afraid I don't understand..." He replied, almost questioningly.

"Let me ask you this: When was the last time you walked these halls completely content with the galaxy, and everything in it?" I asked. "You see, I truly believe that happiness is not something we are truly meant to experience. We may know the many forms of it, but we will never experience that feeling from our infant years; We were so blissfully unaware of the world and all its evils that we could truly be happy to just exist and just breathe. And, yes, there will be times when we will experience it its most diluted forms, but true happiness.... That is something that is lost to us... its as if it is something so profoundly magical and evasive that not even a memory or a neuron or a synapse could contain it. Now isn't that ironic? Isn't that something magical?"

Andan looked at my momentarily, pausing before he moved to sit on the side of the bed which I inhabited so surely. He held my gaze surely as he moved his hand to envelop mine. _It must be the wine,_ I thought, _that makes his touch feel so familiar... As if it had always been there._

"I disagree," He replied. "Because in this moment, I am happy. Perhaps not all is right in the galaxy as I hope it someday will be. Yes, there are corrupt politicians, and angry men with feuds they are fighting without evident reason. And yes, there are wretched things occurring that I could not possibly hope to control. Those things will forever flood my mind with possibilities of what the world could be like. Yet, I find that the things that make me happy are not the things that could be, but the things that are."

He looked at my sternly and gently all at once. And in that moment, I did not wish for Anakin. He was just a thought in the back of my mind, and I wondered what it would have been like to be Padmè, to have kissed Anakin instead of Andan. Yet, I was content with the taste of his lips which tasted of the sweet elixir that had so easily led me to this state of sweet inebriation. I was free from all cages, and as I pressed my lips against his, eager to drink in more of him, I smiled to myself. I invited him to my bed, not as a lover, maddened with passion, but as a comfort I had never had previously known. I rested my weary, floating head against his strong chest, listening to his heart beat deafeningly in my ear. It was all I heard and all I had felt in those moments, as his arms devoured me greedily.

"These arms have known no purpose..." He looked down at me as he ran his hands lightly through my hair. "Save you."

His words were hardly a whisper, his caress hardly a touch; Yet both were so in undeniable ecstasy.

He lay there with me until I my dizzied mind had finally been overcome by sleep, and when I awoke, he was not there. I found solace, however, as the memory of his arms around me warmed me still.


End file.
